Crystal Prison

In the room

"In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo" - T. S. Elliot

Like standing stalks of corn they rustle
In the wind, their words like silken fingers
Reaching out.
But there are panes of plexiglass
Between them, keeping out and keeping in,
A labyrinth of loneliness.
They wander here and there with Pirandello on
Their lips, crystal people
In a land of mirrors.
Who is real
And who is duplication?

They reflect into infinity, eternal.
A winter wind, their words swirl down
The hallways of my soul and try
Each padlocked door.
Indifferent to them I talk of time and space.
Misunderstanding me they measure
Circumstance.

I wait, within my crystal cave.
These seven singing virgins
With these seven youths
Approach their sacrifice, and are consumed.
Separately they pass away,

A silence hangs like tapestries
Across the universe.

Alone, I dream the coming of my Theseus.