I
The kings who have gone
left us the remains of their forgettable names —
like Aleece or Kush
They left us their peculiar crowns
shards of skeletons
fish-heads
unpronounceable words
kohl-sticks
commandments
and eulogies graven in stone
Yet I left you radiant,
resplendent,
wherever your throne sets down
Live blood in mortal veins -
truly you are unforgettable
II
You accompany me
to the gates of ancient Rome
reaching the ends of perfection
as you envisage grace threading each tender aperture
as you envisage the faultless line, and the perfect circle
Let us be brothers in stone
hand in hand
fingers entwined —
and then,
on the threshold of a bar
we clink our glasses
as you add the last touch
to a face already dreaming its history
III
Which of us is the key?
Your door or mine?
IV
Silence is bliss
Life is bliss
Creation is bliss
Even though his chair is empty
even though he is gone
darkness is ablaze
with the presence of his embrace
V
What is the key?
London 30th March, 2006