the closet door sticks
a hesitant heaviness to the handle
but I yank it open.
close
closure
close door
close her in
crisis
it's stuck.
she is me
she is free
we can be
we must be
but I scrape it shut.
the closet door clicks
a lost lament in the latch
I feel like I understand this but also that the meaning eludes me, that it's just outside my grasp. Which is an odd feeling for me.
ReplyDeleteGlad to see you posting.
Hey, Esther, I’ve missed you. ❤️
ReplyDeleteI kinda love this ... deconstruction of sticky doors?