The weight of everything shapes the early morning,

the quick early morning,

the heavy plum purple time

between the 3 and the 5.


It's then begins the heaviest of hours

The time when you come calling

when the weight of you bangs at the door, when you lean back and watch the chimney smoke and wonder ...


let me in you say, let me in....

let me back in you murmur, in you mutter..

In you sob.

But I don't.....the weight of you


and the weight of everything

still pushes and piles against the entries

only mist and fog and crimson tears can cross these thresholds,

only they may worry the  sills.


i let nothing in...you are not allowed,

the red of you, the danger of you ,

the weight of you....

pushes the Dawn