You knocked and I let you in
(unlocked the door, led you under my skin)
But hate lay like a snake in the grass
Waiting to strike at our heels as we passed
She kept the key to my dark room;
She left and warped the weft of my loom
I saw hordes of gray eyes and dark, hungry mouths;
Lord knows what they were mumbling about
I lost hold of the rail I was grasping—
Ghostly pale, quaking like an aspen
Now this thick rope encircles my neck
Whisper, "I hope you're quick to forget."
Grief warms the back of your throat;
Greedy wind snatches at your threadbare coat
Pin oaks and old rusty nails— pinafores rustle and fill like sails
