Today it is Sunday and the balcony door
Was open for cleaning.
The light dancing on the floor
Almost teasing.
It is too bright. That door has been closed for a while.
I try not to open it. I try not to waste light.
My legs stop without permission.
What fleeting visions.
An alternate reality, a house in the city,
The balcony door is always open and light is in plenty.
Some days the hardest thing is opening only a door of wood.
Will you laugh if I tell you about the balcony door?
Will you laugh if I say I don't want light anymore?
I'm terrified of finding darkness on the other side.
I'd rather yearn about the light in the black of my room.
