I wrote to you
Maria, about the studio
Next door
I said that this will be
Our cage
Outside
Of the world
No one will know
When we are in there
Together
I will never write such letters again
For the length of time it takes
For paint to fade and peel
I go to the door
I peer in through a hole
And see
What I haven’t been allowed to see
All these years
What I’ve accepted –
You are in the second room
You’re there, _________
Filling it
This is the sort of art
I’m talking about –
Beautiful but of course
Impossible to achieve
