we were always together
in those days like mercury
and a thermometer I sat
in a ball at your spine
we were lovers then up and down
like an elevator in a shaft
I forgive the shaft its terror
the ride was sometimes lovely
returning from the night
at 3 a.m. in my sandals
ascending
expecting a murderer
when the doors dinged open
we were lovers then
now we would be strangers
again renewing strangeness
if the elevator doors ever opened
and you were just there what to do?
I have begun to look like Beckett now
and frankly a door has no excuse
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