here is a broken casement, a mouth
knocking in the wind
where a thief entered the house
where night leaked in
crept up through the floors
like fire or rising water
licking, lapping
where is he now?
can you still feel?
he looks out at her
through one small, cracked pane
grey with frost and cobwebs—
the casement rattles between them—
plants on the sill upturned, ruptured
leaking
earth and water—
here is the way in
he says, here
could you touch him now if you reached out?
look how your hands quiver
are you sure they're gone
she asks
he looks at her out there
in the blue lamplight
wondering who
who is gone?
who is that who is gone?
I'll just nail it shut for now
he says, just for now
I'll fix it later
knocking in the jagged wind
where the night
slanted in
a thief
who was already gone
.
.
.
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