Door Lock

You close your door at night

though the eyes of your dead

remain wide open all night long

piercing through the floor

planks persistently gazing

and pushing their sins

upwards like new heretics

and you stand by the railing

of the balcony whispering

I discern your opulence

in the darkness of the night

I see the sun in death’s arms

I sense the calling and gathering

of auras in the thickest fog of my memory

in the tallest unconquered wall

and your dead again peaked

from within the gaps

now that you need them most

for their unbiased guidance

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