OLD wallpaper / Run my hands along it, /
Lime green, bumpy / / I open the front door and then close it again / Loudly,
performatively / Shutting out the outside world / There is more of that to be
found insides / I laugh, / The breath escapes me / But the sound withers within.
/ / Noiselessly, I return up the stairs. / Taking my place as an intruder / That
vilified fate of expired visitors / / I walk into a room / The safety of a
cupboard
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