Your door opened at my fingertips
all the demons of Pandora’s box
infected me

Desire, rage, weakness, sorrow
possession’s tyrannical victory forbidden

I wandered alone admiring at length
your beauty, so beaten and broken
fire flooded into my eyes and lungs
violence shuffling along behind me

in the tower room your ghosts
gathered round and watched

as I lifted a shattered jeweled window
in my arms
and surrendered it to your new warden

I went out on the roof
stepped over the railings and stood
beside a tall graceful artisan of wood
a dreamer with blue lips
what he advised I had no power to do

We looked up at the fancifully carved symbols of
a Norwegian Scherezade
detaching from their moorings

your perfume
stayed fragrant on my skin
for hours
like the scent of a lover I’d never see again

or the most deadly of poisons


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