As if she were something to be opened

True desire is when your whole being is soaked in the image of your desire and you cannot see the

differ ence between your desire and the physical world around you.

–Tulshi Sen

As if she were something opened,

exposed to immeasurable space

she lines the walls with herself—

desire between the window panes and flush

against the outlet-plate screws.

I know from her, it is a haphazard embodiment--

She doesn’t know how to be the room.

And then,

she is the house.

I love her. She is the house. I am among others.

She is the house. It matters only as much

as it matters. She is the house.

She is the house opened up to the sky.

True desire.

And the people? Perpetually stationed

at the mailbox and signposts

waiting for rain, or maybe a tornado

and we are taking bets on what comes first and

who will last.