every human’s a box
each also lives in one
and they call it a home.
but some have cracks
not where the locked door is,
nor under the window
through which
curious eyes sometimes
peep searching for
that crazy woman’s screech.
they are inside
and they happen when that glass of
wine is
thrown
somewhere
fallen
somewhere else on
the floor
you can find the shards of
your box.
buy a new home
and a bottle of wine:
open the latter,
lock the first.
liberosis 