~ For J.H. ~
I wed the walls that became my world:In the paper years when doors were cut
and windows shut out the light,
my shadows aged across the floor.
If I climbed out of you now,would you still withhold the key?
The years pass and these walls syncopate
my broken heart – its muffled rhythms
sound like voices from a distant room,
like absences pulsed along the years.