If I take you to this place,

                             you will only be unhappy.

 

                Your worried mind—

useless as a snagged sweater.

 

                                          There are hallways

               and so many doors

                                          that will remain shut

 

despite a slow rotation,

              despite a ring of keys.

 

              This is the question

                             answered.

 

This is your hand

                              and this is the flame.

 

              Listen—             your ear pressed

                            to the keyhole

                                           of an empty room.

What light

                            pools like spilled water

              from the slit

                            beneath the door?