deepundergroundpoetry.com
Closing Time
I approach a closed door
A resisted attempt at twisting the knob
Locked.
For those of you that know me
Most likely you expect the wooden construct
To be consumed ravenously by chemical fire
Or
Melted down to a liquid
A puddle reduced by lyrical witchery
Maybe
Dissolve into a curtain of smoke
Thinning like incense off my body as I pass through the entry
Not today
The movement is gone
A dancing candle is replaced by a stale, steady fluorescent gloaming
The door remains solid
A resisted attempt at twisting the knob
Locked.
For those of you that know me
Most likely you expect the wooden construct
To be consumed ravenously by chemical fire
Or
Melted down to a liquid
A puddle reduced by lyrical witchery
Maybe
Dissolve into a curtain of smoke
Thinning like incense off my body as I pass through the entry
Not today
The movement is gone
A dancing candle is replaced by a stale, steady fluorescent gloaming
The door remains solid
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