klara[dot]nz

Thinking on the places I go when nobody is home,

Stuck like taffy, melting windows, trap-doors underfoot,

We all leave at once, passing ships

In the dark mid-night.

Fathomable distance, keeping that addiction at bay;

Why, after unspeakable misery, am I so afraid of you?

I wonder what it would be like

If we were ever in it together,

Not tied to the circumstances,

Not the children of such stained glass,

Nor the siblings cast apart.

Still we are, all the same, together in this path:

Alone as one's self, weeping quietly, with no plans for return.