Prelude-	
          Were the temples you built
	        a new home
	  for the whores that you loved?

	Are there labyrinthine corridors that
	  confuse outsiders, creating
	an hypnotic trail, a meditation, an end?

	The nun looks out the window at the top of the temple,
	sitting down, I can see the reflection of her habit 
	crawling up her ass.
	
1-
  	Sister Cecilia has turned her back--
		Sister Cecila has turned and now gazes--
		her exposed breasts a beacon of direction.
			"Follow."

	Her body emotes, but her face reveals nothing,
	   floating down the hallways, colonnades on
	both                                                     sides.

	A veritable forest is visible behind the temple--
	   though it's [artificial] layout deceives.
	It's nothing
	          but a large, stoic, French garden.

	The possibility of getting lost inside
	it's twists
	                and 
            	              turns
		makes me curious enough [...]
	     (but) I keep following.

	"There," 
	    she points to a small, adorned door that I
	push open--

2-
	Once inside the room--
	   a spacious blank canvas of wall,
	   decorated by three congruous windows,
	   a hollow dome above my head, walls more than
                      thrice
                         my height.

	Directly out the central window I see a large dome,
	  a flame erupting out of the top.
	Through a window in it's utter center I can see a man
 	      glimpsing out.

	He ducks away as he catches my eye.
	
	(For a moment I imagine it's my possible lover,
	  but he is far away from where I am right
					     now.)

3-
	I turn around to face the single mirror
	  in my boudoir, but the reflection
	of my face (twisted, yearning) startles me--
		my suitcase falls and a fading
	photograph
	  of my possible lover
			falls
				out.

	I reach down and pick it up.
	I compare the picture to the vestige
	   left in the window of the dome.

	The flame goes out.

	I walk to the window and 
	  call out his name.  

	The only response is a hollow echo from
	  my chamber.	
	
	(Everything is symmetrical in this place;
	  even the echo resounds consonantly.)

	In bed, I sleep,
	In dream, I fly.

4-
	I awake, a sister knocking--
	   "Sir?  Breakfast."
	And footsteps follow down
                   			the hall.

	I arise and look out my window 
	once more.  
		     The man is there again,
	but this time
		                  he stays.

	I stare and decide that yes,
	   that is my possible lover,
	   he has followed me here.
	But as I wave, looking for 
	             acknowledgment
	He simply stares back, 
		v a c a n t l y.

	And it's then I know that my 
              possible lover
	                    is not possible.

	And the hollow halls echo my thoughts,
	(for the Merzbau was just an empty tomb)
	and it's my body that's a temple of erotic misery.

Epilogue-
         "My baby says, my baby says, 
	  we can live in the empty spaces of this life."