lost – Magical: Day One

Next-Door.

But what if

when I step through

it’s not this door I opened?

We were zebra in the dry-season

grasses scented on the air

trecking the desert

searching

dry.

Sea-swept drifts
relentless
had drifted from the shore
to fill the room
through windows
til it was a room no more.

though I was once the clay

and you were once the glue

this broken

ancient vessel

has fallen into two