Poem: Doors

 

Doors

 

we weren’t meant

to tango vivid with ghosts,

the gone should not outflesh the day,

nostalgia never never dreamed

to be so concrete.

 

for how fragile we were then,

were we not; and not to witness

is what magnifies this togetherness,

we who once begged to immerse in bliss

and yet now are far less

than a glimpse of that which

was never meant to be.

 

this past of ours

holds much more than canvas or sculpture,

and reaches out as if singing

so many songs without answers

behind the doors.

 

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