Implosion

I’m drawn toward doors and stairs:
ways away (through out up down),
ways toward some place other than here.
My shoulders cramp against these walls;
the ceiling crushes down from the weight
of the sky.  I can no longer stand here,
but walk bent double like pack mules
over-burdened too long upon the trail
until their legs snap cleanly beneath them.
Doors snap shut at my approach;
stairs bend back upon themselves
like ever-twisting moebius strips,
leading me into deeper corners,
into rooms collapsing upon themselves.
(August 18, 2013)

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