This closet is lined
with walls with lines,
So quiet,
I press them in my palm.
so quiet i take them with me.
A dress i wear,
beneath the Homespun truth;
And no one dares to breathe
the Name;
so quiet.
Inside my dreams these walls are white,
and smoke curls up my collar;
the poet burning up my skin,
her ashes at my feet.
