Serendipity

one night, I had nothing productive to do.

i decided to go through boxes
in the attic in search for forgotten
memories (that are in fact not
really memories anymore, until
we are reminded of them again.)--
    images of smiling lips,
    words coming from lips and also
    from eyes (those didn't smile),
    voices without words or smiling
    lips, but with enough emotion
    to be intelligible--

-

i found a key.
    (it was a simple key,
    the colour of metal,
    no inscriptions
        --no "made in..."--
    no decorations, but that didn't
    matter. I wanted to know
    what doors it could open.)
or a key found me.

-

i tried door after door after door after door after door--

-

"some mysteries
were meant to be mere mysteries,"
you said to me.

but a key without a door
has no purpose
and things without a purpose
may exist only if they please
the senses.

and the key wasn't beautiful.
    or soft
    or sweet-smelling
    or delicious-tasting
    and when I dropped it,
        it made a sound way too
        high and loud, and the rest of the time
        it kept quiet.

-

i didn't have any time to lose. sooner
or later, someone would discover
that I held possession of an object
without justification for its existence.

-

i was sitting in the park on the
grass (which was greener be-
cause it wasn't ours) and you
were lying there (i wasn't be-
cause i had worries) and i
sighed.

you closed your fingers
around my wrist and twisted it
until the key pointed
at me.

you said, "now try it."