that’s stabbed
with a nail. Layers of paint
have chipped off
through the stabbing. The woman

is grabbing a picture
to hang over it. All eyes
look at the picture and miss
the hole in the wall, stabbed

by the nail. The hole is securing
the nail that the picture
hangs on. But no scenery
like an azure sky or a blue bird

flying low. No pretty girl
dressed in lace and a bow. Just a
dent in the wall meant to hide
behind the scene. No evergreen

or fir. I lie in the dark
and wait for the woman to take
down the picture and paint
over the hole a bright band of gold.