Quarantainment

The portal as I’d always known it
Closed the instant I’d that shown it
To the trembling child whose tears
Had worn away the walls that years
Of paranoia had erected.
Now it’s shut, and we’re infected.

The window through which darkness seeps
At each aurora seldom keeps
Its flyspecked promise of translucence
Well enough we’re spared the nuisance
Or the weight of prying eyes.
Ours are wide, to their surprise.

Someday when the dawn recedes
And wan ennui their sight impedes
The once-upon-a-waif will try
To wake me from the dream that I
Refuse to tell, and fail. She’ll grieve,
And when the portal yawns, she’ll leave.

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About Michael

Silliness is good
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