Reading Alone;
A knock on the door a quarter past 4It's the girl with ink-stained hands
"Come on in, it's not locked, the handle is mocked
Upstairs there's a balcony where the stars go out later."
She hands you a blank, you thank her before
You feel that she understands,
Don't let too many tomorrows get in the way
Of rooms and houses that live on in the past
Distant ghosts have busy lives
Wait until someone arrives
Part partitions in play, part iconoclast,
Someone writes you a note you can't foretell
Perhaps, because it is written in braille
A semiconscious tone
Finds you reading alone
To a girl with ink-stained hands;
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2022-05-09 at 04:24
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