devils and deeds

this house has too many windows,

with locks that never smile

a roof made of our grievances

from all these past septembers

that only fall when the sunlight

disappears from your voice

and your pallid hand grasps for the

copper doorknob

that leads to a hallway as roving and dark as your

fears and inhibitions

a place of all your devils and all his deeds

while i rearrange the magnets on the refridgerator door

that will never know how to spell my name

(as the ghosts in the closets spread their winter

whispering the secrets they dance to at midnight)

reminding me of the last days we were happy

until you turn to me while the doorknob rattles behind you

(and the way you look at me takes me from my body)

until i freeze and smile

-fin.