in the abandoned house off main street
i found my wild knowing. bird beaks
kalideoscoped. chandelier in my chest. spearmint bush
bursting through floorboards.
everything has jagged edges when you are fifteen.
doorways chew you pink. i would sleep with my eyes open,
waiting for a flock to come & scoop out my tongue.
this is a hymn for those who arrive to empty places.
hallway of blackberries. i plucked door knobs from my manias.
rolled them down the hallway. i'd think, "does anyone else
hear the moon turning over?"
no? only me?