She heard footsteps
In the hallway of her heart
Someone had entered and stolen
A part she never knew existed
Never claimed as hers
To begin with.

And to begin with
She never started this guarded
Until a fireplace – ill-tended –
Went up in flames.

No warmth here
Only vestiges remain
Begging the question:
Which of these is treasure.

For beauty
In the eye of the beholder
Is not
What you see in the mirror
Clutching an insecurity blanket
Afraid to strip the soul

Why don’t you be naked

Be free

And do not for one moment
Think
That you loathe this intrusion –
This rearranging of your basement furniture

Be as she
Who looked him in the eye and
Winked
‘Thief.’