The little shop on a steep street
with the door-bell
playing Mozart’s music.
Key chains made from
amber, cross, Jesus,
old coins, forged letters were on sale.
Stuffed drawers, dimmed light
rosy cheeked saleswoman with a bunch
    of keys.
Obviously, these are fake keys
for testing all those key chains?
They’re not, replied the handle:
these keys are for opening
so that you can enter in the amber
like the captured butterfly
hanging on my neck