Daylight leaks in through the door-gaps,
And from my secret cell I spy
The world without—
On a weatherbeaten park bench
A tangle: her slender hand on his hips,
His careful grasp gently clasps
The slope of her petite shoulders
Holding her like the roses
On a wedding bouquet.
Two bodies drawn together
Lock and key—they let no light through
Unlike these confounding cracks:
Faultlines sprawling unseen
Sometimes behind these whitewashed walls,
I knock, but there is no answer.
In this unvisited room, the pictures hang
Unframed, unhinged. Faces of
Unsung first loves, tentative glances:
Yes, no, if, maybe. On these walls love itself
When they do fling open these doors and peer in
Searchingly, looking for something they say I have
Lost—they find nothing, just as they should.
The light that floods in drowns me
It is nearly night now, and I am finally