Through the shame of last winter...
	its compulsion -
	the citadel
	of the white queen
	of the black hair -
	our "burning wall",
	our "falling tower,
	and Agamemnon dead."

Again again
	assaulting
	the untakeable wall,
	the endless fall,
	scaling ladders,
	peak-capped gargoyle:
	prised from my crab clinging,
	tumbling from the wall

I prowled all winter around,
	about her pale skin
	her dark mouth.

Falling,
	falling from the citadel.
Prick pushed,y
	belly ripped -
	hers and mine.
Heart walled
	and open,

Eyes now blind.



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