I let you wander into that room.
The room where the walls collide.
I had sensed you in every pore of my skin.
You walked through so many doors and
It felt like they multiplied to shut me out,
Deter me from following you.
You sang your song to me and it felt cold.
It was easier to put a lock on every door
And keep you. Somewhere. I wouldn’t see
How you turned your face away from me.
I knew that I had helped you in the worst way
Imaginable. I knew that you would disintegrate.
“Elza Bányai in a Black Dress” by József Rippl-Rónai (1861-1927)
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Published by Croque-Melpomene
Author of "Within Paravent Walls". Pentalingual Idealist. Hypercreative homebody. Self-exorcising Poetess. Creator of "Croque-Melpomene" & "Les Femmes de la Décadence".
I hold a Master of Arts Degree in English Literature, Film and Visual Culture (Dissertation: The Decadent in Love with his Psychopomp: Thomas Mann's 'Death in Venice' and Adrian Lyne's 'Lolita') and a Master of Letters by Research in English Literature, Film and Visual Culture (Thesis: Romanticising Decadence and Aestheticising Death: Women as Projection Bodies and Mimetic Identities in Zola’s 'Thérèse Raquin', Schnitzler’s 'Dream Story', Süskind’s 'Perfume: The Story of a Murderer' and Eugenides’ 'The Virgin Suicides').
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