She Saw the Fire Through the Window

Crack. Splinter. Pop.

Someone’s at the door.

Instead of politely

ringing the bell

she’s decided

to barge right in

wether I am ready

or not for her.

She is wrapped in coats

eager to drop

the weight:

one

by

one.

She knows my home

is where the fire

crackles

splinters

pops

just like her.

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