Too many doors
and inside
too many windows.
I knock, she lets me in.
I am a traveling salesman
She is the farmer’s wife,
And I’m looking to sell her more
Than just a vacuum cleaner
Her kitchen so tidy
I could eat breakfast
Off the floor
I’m a desperate dog,
Trying not to let my tongue
Hang out my mouth.
It shows anyway in my eyes
what I want
But one of two possibilities,
divergent outcomes,
what might be
what might never be
her piano
though silent
stirring up in my head
all the songs
she sings
as if I have actually
ascended to
her seventh heaven
me thinking of her as angelic
though I know she is not
angles and demons
the two sides of the same coin.
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