Doors

Towards the slumbering door
The key is buried in the viscera
I await to be stripped naked
Fervently contending against
the hymns of silence
I am ready to try
To swim to endlessness,
To gyrate with the sways,
To pick from the galaxies,
Without any certainty
Of where the passage leads
But what else is to be done
But to open the closed doors.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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