Here’s the hallway, the ante-room
where blood cooled and settled in the system,
and walk-outs ended with a tear trapped
quickly against the cheek. Like that.

Then the living room (forgive all the gaps –
souvenirs snatched by bit-part players).
Behind these bamboo blinds, prayers
for peace, then covenants and compacts

that satisfied no one. And the rest.
The furniture, what’s left, fashionably distressed,
and that spot on the windowless landing
that would stay hot long after the storm broke.