The room reserved for you?
The air married it
and beat its walls
with wing-fists.
I went in
and had to embarrass it
then left the silence
alone;
while some room needed to
stand up for you,
a plaster bust
of you, door closed,
then you,
bed, window, and match.
Your eyes got darker
and harder
like wood picked when green,
drying.
When you grew by it
a river ran.
Now whatever you are
that river runs.
Some notes
float down rivers,
they’re light enough,
there’s light to read them.
When it’s dark
another burns,
a self lamp.
Read it fast.
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