Would you believe me if I told you about
the women who live in the walls,
wooing unfaithful men and whispering secrets
to girls too young to die?

I wish I could show you them, let you stroke
their wallpaper skin and see what desires lie
in their painted eyes. I would love to watch you smile,
to see you yearn for their love.

They, these Wallpaper Maidens, play such beautiful music,
their giggles softer than a horsehair bow.
Long, tantalizingly perfect fingers caress harps,
teasing them into making a sound.

Would you believe me if I told you that they
dream of having us join them?
Would you go if I whispered
I’ve been one from the start?