Doorway

the doorway is dark
yet it beckons
as a portal always does

a window suggests
there is light beyond
this amorphous room
where there is barely a floor
where walls and ground
fade into one another

nights
where the boundaries
between darkeness
and sound
are indistinguishable
have been unpronouceable

beyond the wall to the street
unseen people
in rumbling vehicles
of unseen color
keep passing by
taking something
akin to composure
away with them...

these nights
often explode
with fireworks
for some virgin or another
fireworks indistinguishable
from gunfire
or handheld missile launchers

by composure I meant
something like concert
that does not
explode
but rather
is swept away...

—Lorena Wolfman