Genkan
the walls of my room are doors
exposed when you stalk my perimeter
squinting shut when I am gasping
for air
alone. you must have chosen me
from a list of names and ages,
perhaps photos. we had a boy
last year, you mentioned over dinner.
you wanted me to be
here, your shadow slides through
the thin paper walls and rattles
across frail wooden bars and tatami.
the door is open, but your gaze pierces
elsewhere, a door restlessly slams
into itself again and again. I fumble
through my words like so many keys
and jam every one. why, you ask,
did you even come here when you
cannot speak the language
of doors. every breath stifles
into a cold vaporous shell. on the
precipice of a doorway hanging
ajar and shaking, I wonder
how much of myself
is still left here.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
