Dissolving Doors

come in again, the revolving
door’s always open, then
closed and opened

for those who can remember
to wipe their feet before
trudging all their
skeletons in,

carpet’s like golden path
o’ grass against a tide
of trampling toes,

fibers kickin’ up stuff like dust
to purge contents of room’s
least chalky nose.

and no lone visitor had
the mind to close
my dissolving

open and then closed again,
then open once more,
as was noted once


image: https://providencegallerynet.wordpress.com/2017/10/28/new-exhibit-beacons-by-annie-leist/

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