Poem: Doors

 

Doors

 

in my mind,

more mouth than entryway,

these doors that taste whatever comes through.

 

doors more lonely than a library has pages.

hungry mirrors of each other,

positioned to kiss.

 

one door excites another,

until they find a room

within a whirlwind of shocks.

 

when i tire from all the hurt

the doors flow simple,

and drift in an odd museum--

 

smitten sculptures,

arrows through their hearts.

 

they point toward more arrows

and arteries and journeys

and many more signposts,

until the  doors resolve 

at the same destination.

===============================================

3/21 "and drift" replaces "and i drift"

3/13 ... sculptural mods

3/3   "toward" replaces "at" ... 

2/6 ... really hard poem ... I tried... 

2/6 "doors" replaces "signposts" ... "come" replaces "collide"

 2/23 .. titled changed to "Doors" from "Mind Doors"