There is a door that’s halfway shut,
And strains of music down the hall;
He rises, as though in a dream,
And time itself begins to crawl
He smells the world, the wallpaper,
The toothpaste, and the counter grout,
As past the open bathroom, he
Looks up to see a bulb go out
And he is nowhere, none at all,
A nightmare in its nullity —
And cannot make it down a hall
That stretches to
Infinity
To share is human:
