I’ve grown tired of the excessive
noise within my head. All the rooms
of the body lock down with the same key,
yet faith where do you live?

I do trust anything,
facts are fractal, even the blue door
is every color but blue, my eyes call it so,
and my tongue follows.

Here are the words my mother taught me.
Yes, there’s nothing here but silence

and the blue door, closing
over and over again.