Yet again
I am compelled to open the door
the pretty light teases through the keyhole
it twists in subversively
gossamer smoke and slippery whispers
touch my face
spill on to the floor

So I’m standing exposed
with the door open
giving a fuck
(I have but few left to give)
flip up my soul the outside
like a shirt tag
you can read the instructions quite clearly
not lay flat to dry
but wash in like colors
so nearly and dearly
like mine
that they slip by