empty room the walls low moans press into me their emptiness echoing breath against bare flesh
scent of elms moss rust decay
whisper of dead leaves over the black marble flagstones in the garden through the heavy lace of the dark draperies crawling into the cold damp mouth of the night dusk-dark meadow under wild quince & almond trees a shadow descends
in the dusty rooms below loose-haired girls come down in darkness in gowns of white with children's voices full of cries
a figure in the garden gleam of silken wings beneath a black cloak made from angels' skins dark liquid eyes behind a veil pale & trembling he crawls through the back broken window into the ruined chapel