Haunted house

The room you never entered, is the one I never left.

The room with the pictures on the ceiling,

where the floors have tasted iron and the air is stale 

with ambivalence 

and tales of unsure hearts left reeling.

Sometimes I return,

to this room you did not get to see.

The room where a stranger held my hand

and asked me about Venice,

where I spoke to her of Gondolas 

while the ghosts crawled up inside of me.