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Is There Anybody Home No more fire burns through the chimney Is there anybody home Not even a flicker dances from the stone Tell me, is there anybody home She has left the room hollow The old years echo like a drum as I knock Her voice, though I know it is impossible Twists crumbl’d beneath the sheets- still She has left me, her voice rolling Like water over rocks- even at this distance At the tip of my fingers she is soothing So I play with the water and watch Her wrinkle with age No more birds come to fill your window Only the empty shadows of my feigning wings Not even a sparrow flutters cross the hollow cell Only the black shadows of my feigning wings The walls have become pale and crack’d Bare by the bed we made love upon, she remains Crumbl’d beneath the sheets like a paper ghost Left me- with a knife on the pillow dreaming Sniping silhouettes out of our imaginary keepsakes Counting the cuts it takes to reach the center Of the heart, even without all the pieces remaining I can still make out the tatter'd corners Of a ancient smile No more flowers rise from the bed Only the dead stalks rattle in the breeze Not even thistle will prick up its head Only the dead stalks waving in the wind We in our different ways have become the same Both transparent in the doorways no longer In need of locks- the only thief being ourselves The hesitation to steal what we could, to stand Above the screams cursing the gods as they turn Away their heads laughed prayed, we cried But the gods rung the tinnitus joy as if to mock Knowing we where neither lit or strong enough to endure the judgment… …But the only gods were in our heads No more creaking floor footsteps stirring Is anybody awake tossed and turned Not even a stir when I cry the house is burning Tell me, would exodus be the cure |
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