an old dusty box left in the corner
in the nook of never stepped hallway, like a boulder
all alone in there, it could be a mourner
stayed in, for what felt like an eternity
isolated from being, morbidly
exploring the tantalizing sound of
silence
wondering its mesmeric and ecstatic balance
that left her, delirious and lustful for guidance
lights shined through the window, sooner
the wind came, rigorously blew dust further,
old ***** dust flew sporadically in every corner
that She could watch
float flawlessly forever
an old dusty box left in the corner
She begged to be a no longer.