the sadness of modern life
is almost sometimes too much
to justify, to live with; as an otherwise
nude ballerina removes her hat
and squats in a warm bath--
the door closes.
yes, I'm afraid I've arrived w/o
booking my room ahead of time.
I'm just here, is this alright?
can we see each other still?
crossing her legs, she smiles.
my love, but why are you here?
I've arrived like twilight on the eaves
of your mother's house, post-midnight,
before the June bugs came out.
I've arrived like a warning from God
to be merciful & to follow instincts.
This is how you got here:
This is the way home.
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