Door as Point of Contention

Ryan Dzelzkalns

All night I lay facing it
watching the crack for footsteps.

I dream Mother in the old house
with an intruder.

What fears may take our shape.

I have been grappling with this
my whole life.

The sky opens up, out falls Mother.
The sky opens up, out falls me.

Somehow we are connected.

I have been saying Mother,
but cannot remember mine.

So many systems of failure
to get me here: manhood, youth.

Constellation of desire.