April 22, 2012

The empty room

In all of us, there was an incompleteness,
a space unfilled, unfinished,
like a room inside a house
that has not yet been painted or furnished.

We closed it up, that room,
we locked it,
folded it into a suitcase
and took it with us.

Some nights, we invited one another in.
Some nights, we only left the door ajar.
Some nights, we were distracted and forgot to lock it.
Some nights, the lock was picked.

We left our traces,
dust, and keepsakes,
and trails of evidence behind,
while we chased a caravan.

We figured, given time,
we'd figure out
how to fill a space
that never stands still.

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