Established 1999
Houses, made of shadows
of hallways
dragging footsteps, night’s
brooding matter
Windows, dark sketches
against glass
The sky comes down hard
inside my head
like a disturbing face
of black eyes
cold as any winter pane
smeared as any ink blotter
Reaching floor to ceiling
the hard chilled air
dreams of its own body
because bodies move
from room to room
like the sinister dead
exhaling down my spine
breath as thin as twilight
raising dust that does not
hold life, does not sound
a heartbeat,
does not accumulate
but swirls with faint motion
as I turn away
wearing this house as a mask
and facing another room