Only the walls know

What the goings on are,

Inside this glorious madhouse.

They see, and remember,

Remember by holding in the evidence,

In their structure, in their bones, in the paint smeared upon them.

They can recall the way your tears were like pearls.

And the dark that bloomed on your pale neck

Where I kissed and you moaned.

They know the shy way your tentative fingers

Edged and traced the curves of my cheek,

Cold skin and hot breaths.

They remember where we pressed against them

And where I lifted you and pressed your hips against that red wall,

Just over there.

And where we stumbled into the hall,

The way you whispered my name in the dark,

Your lips curling and shaping the single syllable,

Soft and only beautiful in your voice.

The walls know this,

They stood, friendly and there,

And watched us break each others hearts.