Living Room Door

In

the apartment

is

a

cream colored

door.

 

Stairing

into

the room

there are

dinner guests

and

seated

paper flowers

and

a brown dog

that lays

on

the

blue carpet.

 

Plainly,

we try

to

close ourselves,

but

with

every

facing moment

in the

static air

our bleached

thoughts

do nothing

but

crowd around.

 

“Off white” she

tells me.

 

And

on her

“off nights”

from work

she

accepts

to never

walk

through

it

again.

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