Soft rapping on the other side of the door
Boomingly loud in the silence
Resounds against the thick heavy planks built to plug the hole that was her

A glimpse, she stands there.
Alternately trying to look subdued and earnest
Masking from herself the grasping eagerness of her knuckles

Writhing with layers of indecision, peppered with want and fear
My hand finds the knob, moving as if detached from my own arm
Turns, gently, to the right.

With a quiet snick, the barrier dissolves
Just a crack, a small glimpse from this side, to her
May as well have thrown the door wide.

In a heady rush, everything I’d locked down roars to the surface
The desire, the pain, the deep ache
Wrought from my terminal inability to understand the illogic of it all

With a willpower I’d struggled to gain
My right foot extends, preventing the further swing of the blockade
Even as I lean towards the small gap

Fingertips taste a wisp of what was
The craving roars inside me
I want to throw away the door!

Slowly, sucking on my own grief like air, I pull my hand inside.
Place it against the wood.
Lean my body forward, into my extended limb, close the miniscule gap

Light from the outline penetrates my vision
Burning into the back of my brain
No longer a forgotten, walled over hole

My heart beats a familiar rhythm
Reminds me with its sudden deep ache of vacuum
What the door is for.

© 2021 Kelly Bowen Arts / Invisible Girl Media