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?