the voices coming
through the floorboards
tell you there is no
underlying rationality and
you know this to be true.

you open doors and
closets to find the darkness
but whenever you do light
cannot help but flood

at night trees come
alive with the wind. in the
paroxysm of love
you begin to forget; —
who put
skin over the windows
and filled every drawer
with tulip

a ghost tells you about
the tenderness of life,
the disaster of
being alive,

. you follow
her footsteps but find only
doors, whistling on their
hinges. you look for her until
you realize you have become
the ghost and she the person.
you continue to open doors,
now only to hear the
sound of them