Telling: Streams & Logs

Poetry

displaced

Came home and crashed against the smell of closed up spaces, 
tucked up tight in myself, aerodynamic 
and a face full of wind,
I had nothing.

The others all fled to their separate,
and I with nowhere,
with no run left in me.

I opened my mouth and nothing came out.

The place was closed against me. 
I didn’t belong to it as I should,
couldn’t remember how.

The stairway turned a shoulder, 
the windows ignored me, the light switch 
suffered me in silence.

In the night the dog in her sleep
set to howling.