the second room, Maria (fr. Sweetheart, over____)

I wrote to you
Maria, about the studio
Next door

I said that this will be
Our cage
Of the world

No one will know
When we are in there

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