Listen to the world’s best poetry read out loud.

This is the mansion which God willed me

and no other. The ceiling is glass,

the stars unreadable and what pass

for stars stare blankly

at something just over my shoulder.

I am standing in the grand hall of mirrors

like a chess piece on the tiled floor,

a blind and insignificant player in a game

that the other has already won,

but I am trapped on my square while you

are making love to another who is

shivering but not with the cold

and I am laid bare against the world.