When using you are not the same.
That sublimity of an altered state,
you are not the same.

Do not talk to me about faith or
the hierarchy of trust. Don not bring
the slow jibes of your desire
into my house of sorrow.

I'll lock all my windows.
I'll bust all the light bulbs.
I won't recognize your voice
calling mother through the door.

by Lisa Zaran

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