Zywa
Old keys
I have kept boxes (first quality)
with nails, a jam jar full
of keys from unknown doors
and a pile of suitcases
foundjects from mother's house
memories that have become secrets
as undescribed museum pieces
sparsely on a shelf in the shed
put away by me for later, ever
to open my past with it
when time stands still, and I
no longer find doors
to the future, only
can get lost in the present
or in the past
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