Monday, September 12, 2005
Another sick ticket...
Bluebeard, by Gwen Strauss
Come, love, and show me
the small key to my turret-chamber,
Yesterday, in a far off place,
I heard a door scrape a threshold
and the cold clank of metal on stone.
Today, I am returned.
And what, my bride, is this? A stain?
Blood? Again betrayal.
When you arrived in my castle yard,
a country virgin dressed in Paris silks,
I opened all rooms to you but that one,
trusted you with my keys to leave untouched
the one dark corner where I go alone.
Each woman I destroyed, I loved
with infinite tenderness.
Each woman gave herself complete
to me in death, because, as you will find,
there is no freedom greater.
Pain and pleasure are but a moment to either.
Remember the wedding night. In the end,
I will leave no part of you untouched.
In that far place, remember me,
how I remain a prisoner of a little room,
searching for one who loves me as I love.
Andi says: Spoken like a true serial killer.