The door

It says to me “I’m looking for something.”
Stare
It goes away
It comes back
“I’m looking for something.”
The one who writes either keeps it secret
Or does not know
I open my mouth
Wide and yawning until my jaw touches the ground
It crawls inside
And then after a time
It crawls back out
“What are you looking for?” is what I ask
And the one who writes won’t say who I am
“It wasn’t there.”
And then it walks away
So we will repeat it again and again
In many different places
Until it comes back to me in a shape made by time
“Did you find it?”
I still stand taller that it does
“Nothing is found.”
Comes the voice from its mouth
Then it turns around and sits beside me