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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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