The
woman who might take in you any interest
Would do so only to admit you
as her guest
Up to her courtyard or
doorstep utmost
And thence no more, which you
must not mistrust
As consent for you to enter
her bedchamber,
For there lies her Guilty
Complex in slumber,
Who, if awakened, will slam
at you her front doors.
You will have slain the duck
that lays golden eggs.
12.04.99, Palakkad
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