Let Me In
The window does not open. Still, the world wants in.
This house.
Stone and brick walls, giving way to moss, damp blooms and ivy tendrils.
A geranium has made a home of the living room window, fingers parting the seal between wood and glass.
Insistent.
Not interested in consent.
Perhaps the geranium thinks it’s implied
a window is usually opened.
Not this one though.
Fixed in place. No latch or hinge.
A decision made before we knew any house,
let alone this one.
Still, the world wants in.
It knows our mistake.
Pressing at the edges.
Peeling back resistance.
Let me inside.
Weather: Bright cold. Blue, Pink sky. Fingers stinging in light.
Action taken: Pulled the terrarium back in front, to hide the transgression.
