Suddenly
The double glass doors blow apart
Disclosing
The only world I have-
This rented one, scrawled with green thunder.
In here where you live
Corded wool coverlets lie light
And wide upon a white bed.
Four ladder-backed chairs front
A hard low table.
Beside a bowl of plums
Cool milk stands in a dark pitcher.
You have
What you will not leave.
Desiring you,
All I desire or deserve is
What you have.
Outside the sky tilts over the tops
Of huge bruised mountains heaving closer.
The trees hover.
The sunlight crumbles forward in a blue collapse.
Though you admit me,
You will not come with me when I leave.
You never have.
Close the doors now-
I'll stay a little longer.
Then close the doors after me.
And may no glamour of dream disturb this house.