You don’t have to tell me, she said.

So I didn’t. I just opened the book

and showed her your picture

on the flap of the jacket. She smiled.

Very handsome, she offered,

and closed her eyes. I went on

looking at the book

thinking It’s over. And I knew it,

a little at a time,

as her urine drew a cold circle

beneath her yellow hips.

THE TOWER

THE TOWER

Peace is blue, isn’t it. Prussian. Almost black. I have jars

and jars of it.

A shadow at the door, and then the light—

your face. Calm, just the way it was when we met.

Knowing something, about yourself, about me—

was it dread?

Or joy?

A step into a house built to fall, a house

already burning.

I never pleaded to undo

what was already done—

is it done?

I pour the ink on the page.

That blue.

It lasts.

About the Author

MARYSE MEIJER is the author of Heartbreaker. She lives in Chicago.