Fifty-seven.

There are emptied out frames
all over the floor, a blue cup of water,
and no scientist has been able to prove
that people get what they need.
Someone, somewhere, maybe in Germany or Sydney
or Mauritania or North Dakota
claims that they want to understand.
Shift the perspective:

Letters from other states say
You deserve to be happy
and
I am so proud.

Five hundred kilometers away
a young man discovers that he is still a human being
when he begins crying uncontrollably
into a bowl of oatmeal. Meanwhile,
you lament about fairness while brushing your teeth
over a pristine porcelain sink, because, after all,
nobody ever offers to come over when you are decidedly
falling apart into your morning cereal.

The themes progress. Evolve like animals.

We find the rooms inside ourselves
and then decide what to do with them.
Here: The doors will not be equipped with locks
and the windows will always remain open at least
one inch. Nobody will be a prisoner but sometimes,
sometimes a person will ask why you didn't try
to keep them. Explain that you always kept the tea warm
and eventually added furniture specifically for them,
hung up their favorite painting next to your
favorite painting, but never gathered up the guts
to ask the Important Questions. Sorry.
Remember that this will not be good enough
and they will likely not forgive you.
Sweep the floor immediately, but neglect
to scrub the windowsills.

Sometimes,
we don't tell the truth.