The pleated curtain furls,
unfurls and swirls
like a young heart in love.
I want the braids to emerge
here, somehow,
so that I can uncurtain you
to enter the windows in view.
You disrobed the entire house one day
and the walls stood naked in display,
your detergent soaked palms
bestowing words in alms.
I am still searching the wall over which
these lines break like a ridge.
