Mest leste ▸
Dave Bonta
a lock torments me
unable to give
more than ash
where ash is ordinary as water
and infinite as hope
this lying sea
lock and own
to lack is a sin
a dull people are a content people
at all the papers
early on
all the keys failed
but tell me that a lock lied
or to have some hope
and talk together an hour
like clerks on a Monday
Long past:
cold as a god of business.
Past of which I eat,
almost cloyed.
Past in our own feast,
the lock altered.
Alone, he is a castle keep,
still with fear:
will love find him
in a lie, saying
that it was the same outside
as with a lock and a state…
One room in my heart shall be closed, I said;
One chamber at least in my soul shall be secret and locked!
I shall hold it my holy of holies, and no one shall know it!
But you, calm woman predestined, with casual hands,
You came with this trivial key,
And ward by obdurate ward the surrendering lock fell back,
And disdainfully now you wander and brood and wait
In this room that I thought was my own!