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 this.
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.

1 comment:

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