October 28th, 2011

Make a home. Not a house. However trivial it sounds. A home from aways. Ways of leaving. Yes. First the window. Not the door. The door unnecessary. Window, unless prison cell. Without door. Or at the only end. This.
You found it on a plane up. When your face out. Your face here – with mouthfulls of night words, then – silent.
The window:  sunlit and shining.
Fuck the door, for now.


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