Your room is shuttered with fear,
composed of scornful years and
disregarded love notes.
Please me, would you, by allowing
me inside, a mere moment of your time
out of the cold.
Half-heartedly, we speak of
simple things, of work and money,
nothing of time lost, however.
Given the intricacy of your
floorplan, the context of a neat
wedding collage, the chance
of my visit alleviates
little of our final words ten years prior.
My hostage, my stranger,
perhaps we will never truly learn
each other's first name.
I excuse myself, I must be going,
the time has passed
for the issue mistakenly addressed
as somewhat romantic.
You take care now, Thief,
I say as, smiling, I exit her door.