I give back the keys
to that place
that does not belong
to me
and where I do not
as I’ve learned.

I put on my shoes
and brush away the dirt that I left,
dipping my head
into ink
and wiping the slate
with my wet, dripping hair
which I use to wash
your hallowed feet
fickle as birds.

I blink away the door,
rubbing my eyes until
there is nothing left
until the wall is empty,
the frame disappeared

and I step out to regain
my place among the crowd
walking slowly
from one place
to the next.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s