still hours make for jagged homes
spare and celibate guests ringing
followed by hours verging on being
yes home has shown us barren nights
all the shrunken desires grow fangs
knocking scratching incessantly for entrance
where bewildered verses are encased
under these stories of muffled shrieking
so here halted in my house
(and worse luck it’s locked from outside)
after these branching thoughts wheedle all night
tangled dangling by shoelaces i wait for morning
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