[Poem]
I tried to make a home out of you
But doors lead to trap doors
A stairway leads to nothing
Unknown women wander the hallways at night
Where do you go when you go quiet?
You remind me of my father, a magician, able to exist in two places at once
In the tradition of men in my blood you come home at 3 a.m. and lie to me
What are you hiding?
The past and the future merge to meet us here
What luck, what a fucking curse.