once your worst fear comes true, it all goes
out the window from there. once you see that
you can survive what you thought would kill you,
you discover a resolve, and a freedom.

you will not be lonely; before long a new
worst fear will come to take its place.
but instead of letting it inhabit you,
you will inhabit it like a summer house:

you will visit it regularly, use it for a 
fair-weather muse, momentum. you will re-
member that you are the curator: you select
the temperature, the view, the furniture,

the food. you choose which flowers to
bring in from the garden; you choose
the garden. you entertain guests at
your leisure, and spend countless hours

completely alone, staring up at ceilings,
out at horizons, in at dream selves. and
at the end of the season, when you have had
your fill of dinner parties and mindless novels

and beach sands and pool sides, you
pack your bags, sweep the floors, board
up the windows, and head back to the
mainland—where you make your living.

Art: Summer-House, Paul Klee


2 thoughts on “defenestration

  1. lunachik4 says:

    Thanks, imstillinthisthing. I’m still in it too…

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