Monday, October 14, 2013

10-13 The Door Opens

petals fresh from bouquets,
on my hands, I opened
the door to the house of September
shadows in corners whispered my name,
a hushed fellowship, gathered, to look
upstairs.
candle light flickering, the house had caught,
something new, something different, and he
nested, fumbled, into the eyes of the house of September,
amber smoke smoldering, unfurling,
into
shadows in corners, whispering his name,
I, with petals stained on my hands,
hesitated, at the door,
whispering his name, shadows gathering-
changed.

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