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    By Ansley Wiederholt
Letters are just merged lines
A velvet curtain droops over the rusted window
Deeply colored red bottles of wine

She sits on the porch awaiting an answer to this anguish
As crows encircle the thoughts in her mind
Creaking floorboards disrupt the silence of night
Constructing a shield over her heavy heart
A space so confined

Cracks in the ceiling leave traces of the faucet on the floor
Dreams of white walls flutter in the nightfall
As stale bread is all that remains in one kitchen drawer

It wasn’t always this way
The house was once buoyant with bright lights
She now ends each night on her knees to pray
Perhaps a spark will ignite once more
This is all she can wish
When a knock dances in from the front door​