When doors are also windows,
the shut-you-out metaphor
fails intransigence.
The transitional fog
when you get too close
drives water into your eyes.
Become a second person
by walling off, spackle and all,
the hall from the out-of-side.
You, yes you, have fallen in
with a crowd of other selves
and in losing your one
you may, if you accept it,
gain a sweltering, teeming gathering
of all within all.