A most unfortunate circumstance,
coming along when you did.
As I put the finishing touches on the keep, stationed the garrisons,
you knocked on the heavy gates,
claiming you came in peace.
But I disregarded your white flag,
and instead we settled to let you set up camp
at a safe distance on the banks of the moat.
It was a rotten deal from the start and I told you so.
Nevertheless, at each daybreak
when the perimeter was patrolled
for any newly fashioned secret entrances,
or attempts at infiltration,
I would watch you from my tower.
You would shake out your sleeping mat,
Water your horse, light the small stack of wood.
I could count on it, day by day.
And I found it odd that you wore no armor.
Then you would look up at me--
bravely, patiently,
Kindly.
And I would rip my gaze from yours,
making good on the indifference I'd promised to deliver.
On the nights when I held the masquerade balls,
inviting jesters, fools, noble men and women--
liars, deceivers, traitors--
into the outer courts,
Sometimes I'd catch a glimpse of you outside,
shivering in the moonlight.
Your eyes held no guile.
So I left you in the cold
and opened the windows to make sure
you could hear the music inside.
Because I'd told myself long ago
that no one would ever put a sparkle
in my eye again.
I remember the day you delivered the
peace offering.
With nothing but vulnerability
you walked past the line of guards with iron spears,
and kneeling, offered it with outstretched hands.
You hid nothing.
And taking it, I held it in my hands
like a fragile baby.
I could feel the life-blood running through it--
still beating.
So before I could look into the eyes
that I already knew were fixed on me tenderly,
I let it slip through my fingers and fall on the glass floor.
And as I turned from your frame and walked away,
coldly, calmly,
the beating ceased into silence.
But I didn't look back.
Because you should have known.
Because I told you I would do this from the start.
