through the door

SUSAN IOANNU

Imagine a filigreed keyhole

the shape of a corset

or hourglass

and a silver key,

the handle a circle

head notched like an axe.

(Word-sharp,

did it cut off

the corset’s neck, perhaps?)

On one side

blood is dripping

into a stained, glass shell.

Fine white logic

sifts in the other

a radiant children’s pile.

Chaos blooms into order,

and order implodes

to a flash.

Form is flow,

and energy, matter

the keyhole’s inseparable halves.

Both sides

lock up one Garden

we wander and wonder in.