Since I was born

I’ve been a point definitely settled

(Roses are eaten fragrant)

Was it the same with you, Montresor?

Immediate risk of disappearance?

(down vaults where the dead are)

Repressed grimaces, forced smiles,

baptised in delectatio morosa.

 (violins playing obsession).

I bet you wrote poetry once,

dreamt of being a highwayman.

(Each laughing mouth a wound)

Into that hidden maze –the lifelines on your palm–

I kept myself a secret

(down vaults where the dead are)

movement – a measure of how long

until I turn myself into

(walls between a man and the Carnival.)

 

a weaver of grand jests,

the echo of rich laughter.

(Down vaults where the dead are)

Us: the smirk of a god.

We grew to be nightshade,

(loose teeth in the mouth of the earth)

but roses? Never.

We were eaten fragrant.

(we’ll stay awake and play.)

So be it, Montresor:

Let’s…