Knowing her
was a slow walk
up a tenement stairwell
in dim light,
patchouli sifting through still air,
beautiful, disturbing graffiti
encrusted everywhere.
Each step arduous, uncertain
if the stone stair will hold
my weight and worry.
Finally, at the top,
breathing hard,
I find her door
a wall
at which I stare
and stare,
bolted tight
from the unseen
inside.
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