In this
room
all
thoughts are spoken.
Even as you
light the candles,
each
recessive fear of our cupboards is
extinguished.
There is no
need for dishes.
We counted
them once and lost them,
while
groping for the matches.
There are
no mirrors,
ugly lies
written on our walls.
Our door is
clean
and as we
enter here,
we see each
other clearly
by the
candles burning in our voices.
