By Quang Pham
The screen door
That slams when
You are angry.
The spilled milk
That spoils when
You are away.
The doorbell
That rings when
No one is home.
I am the swamped basement That
stirs when
You are afraid. The
hairy spiders That
you swallow When
you sleep. The
mad gods That you
pray to After dark.
I am the stars in the sky That
gleam when
You are lost.
The damp tunnels
That echo when
You are lonely.
The old ringtone
That shrieks when
You won't answer.
And you never answer.
But neither do stars
When you weep.
But neither do gods
When you sacrifice.
But neither do tunnels
When you scream.
And neither do I
Who am nothing But
the screen door
That slams when you are angry.
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