with all the secrets
of
a lion in a wardrobe
i bade
you come in
through my front door, which
is marbled, crackled grass
with
foggy faces
as if you
breathed on me
and looked
at me
in narnia vision.
i open the door
as you jingle,
bells on leather,
with the happy mystery
of
a season: old,
and new.
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