Like Sleeping Birds

From behind closed doors
come sobs of lament.

Quiet, in the full heat
of the empty night.

Open window welcomes a
breeze and distant scent.

The absent sky shivers as
stars drift across its face.

From behind closed doors
come sobs of lament.

Timid gasps of desperation,
longing to be heard.

Black and red, scattered
like sleeping birds.

Lost to the world
under a blanket of darkness.

From behind closed doors
come sobs of lament.

Through nights like this
I held her in my arms.

How her piercing eyes
drew out my kisses.

Another’s. Another’s.
She will be another’s.

From behind closed doors
come sobs of lament,

waiting on a morning light
through window’s frame.

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