You will never not know
that the castle is there, the keep still keeping
certain ghosts who fear dark roads
more than dark walls, whose loneliness
thunders through the halls.
Below, the kitchen is cold. You see
the corners of the rugs have all been lifted
and the floors unswept by some kind
and helpful spirit so that simply by coming
down the steps from the keep you find
the breadcrumbs
meant to lead you out
of this enchantment, your own,
whatever it is.
The door opens
when you touch it. It is not wrong
to pause on the threshold, here at the very
end of the story. Behind you, everything ever.
Before you, on the dark road,
everything after.