I Walked Past a House Where I Lived Once

I walked past a house where I lived once:

a man and a woman are still together in the whispers there.

Many years have passed with the quiet hum

of the staircase bulb going on

and off and on again.

The keyholes are like little wounds

where all the blood seeped out. And inside,

people pale as death.

I want to stand once again as I did

holding my first love all night long in the doorway.

When we left at dawn, the house

began to fall apart and since then the city and since then

the whole world.

I want to be filled with longing again

till dark burn marks show on my skin.

I want to be written again

in the Book of Life, to be written every single day

till the writing hand hurts.