The House With Two Windows

O the lustral, linden-lanterned Silver-syllabled stone O the moonfold roof above us O the house that stood alone O the glim-gold stairway turning O the blue ninth sill in bloom O the House With Two Windows And the room behind the room In the House With Two Windows Where the soft high rafters shone Lived a child of Brindle-borrow And a child of Vey alone He was kept below the westlight She was kept above the stair For the Brindle would not Veyward And the Vey would not come there But the bell-moths knew the passage And the sill knew how to lean So they met above the courtyard Where the old loud world was green O the House With Two Windows O the stair that sang them through One for Brindle, one for Veyward One for neither, one for two O the House With Two Windows Where the night was silver-blue They were never meant to enter But the house already knew He brought her a vellan button She brought him a folded light They exchanged their little nothings At the narrow lip of night And the walls grew soft around them And the lanterns lowered gold And the House With Two Windows Kept the weather from the cold But the Brindle heard the whisper And the Veyward heard it too So they locked the lower stairwell And they painted one glass blue O the honey-hinged and hallow Hush-a-luminous arcade O the sallow-silver ceiling Where the sleep of sunlight stayed O the vellum-veined veranda O the moth-mouth marble door O the House With Two Windows That was beautiful before Then the old bell-folder told them There was one small way to run Send a moth across the middle With a paper in its tongue But the moth was caught at daybreak In the rain-net by the wall And the message lost its meaning And the ink forgot to fall So he waited in the westlight She waited on the stair Each one thinking each had left them Each one thinking none was there O the House With Two Windows O the stair that sang them through One for Brindle, one for Veyward One for neither, one for two O the House With Two Windows Where the night was silver-blue They were never meant to enter But the house already knew Then the stair forgot its number And the ninth sill turned to three And the doors became almost-open Where no doors had used to be And the bell-moths beat their paper mouths Against the honeyed eaves And the moonfold roof bent lower Like a mouth among the leaves All the halls began to listen All the rooms began to lean And the House With Two Windows Made a room that had not been Do not follow Said the floorboards Do not answer Said the stair Do not call them Said the window They are almost They are there They were found in neither chamber They were named in neither hall But the vellum windows brightened Where there should have been a wall And the Brindle blamed the Veyward And the Veyward blamed the rain Till the old bell-folder whispered Do not call them out again For the house had heard their promise For the house had loved it too And the house had grown around them As the beautiful things do O the House, the House cantumbled O the silver-sorrowed stone It had kept them from the old loud world Then it kept them for its own O the House, the House cantumbled O the moonfold mourning blue There are two lights in the window But no room you can pass through O the House, the House cantumbled O the stair that turned to bone One for Brindle, one for Veyward One for neither, one alone O the lustral, linden-lanterned Silver-syllabled stone O the House With Two Windows And the room behind the room There are two lights in the window There are two lights in the blue They were never meant to enter But the house already knew