A thief entered her mind–
treading so lightly, working with such patience,
that his presence was long undetected.
At first he stole trinkets–
recent acquisitions made valuable
only by their absence.
She blamed herself.
“Now what was I saying…?”
And she laughed and we laughed.
“She’s always been like that,”
we said. But–
when hours began to disappear…
when she searched for yesterday
and could not find it…
when she could no longer lay her hand
on familiar treasures of her youth…
“I am supposed to know that–” she said.
“It’s all right,” we said. “We all forget.”
And we smiled. But–
we knew.
Even after he revealed himself
we could not stop him.
Bold, relentless, rapacious,
he emptied each room, and,
leaving, shut each door behind him.
“It’s all right,” we said. “It’s all right.” But–
she knew.
She wandered the bare corridors
in search of
What?
Yes, there! A glimmer…
No.
But surely he has not taken…
Gone. Gone. All gone.
You must try.
I can’t.
Something. Somewhere.
I can’t.
Look.
I can’t!
Until she entered the last dark room,
and there he pulled shut the door
and locked it,
leaving her a prisoner
in her own vacant house.