For some a door 
is just a door

for others
the poetic type
a door is a portal

a portal
to another inside

life can be what it is
or what you fantasize 
with other words
art

My three neighbors live
in the same house as I do

the only difference
is what you see in the window

Should you believe your eyes
when you know they are wrong

that’s a point
more common than you know

You frame your closed life 
like a painting turned around
in its frame 
why

Some places look attempting
but not necessarily
by how they look 

I am in a corner
in a hallI        I don’t know
not because I was sent 
or went
myself

What I now see in parts
is no longer straight
but I see it all
captured in my sphere 
a long stare 

Isolated
life seems calm
slightly stained
not so colorful

I love walking on bridges
It's not because of the other side
but the structure that brings me there

I see a chair behind the window looking at me
I wonder if the somewhat symmetry I see
is known to it

just an observation
in passing 

I stack my thoughts
layer up on layer
and they are not see-through

I only have the register
partially
so I have a look
and 863 thoughts ago
the title reads for that moment's thought…
stacking thoughts 

It is light
while standing here
waiting for the light
to turn on