February 5, 2008
A confident step forward
Into the golden doorway
Of promises that are too new
To touch with bare hands.
Floating through.

Shut out in a snap of wood.
It wasn't precious metal
After all.

Another trap left me
On the floor again
With splinters deeply rooted
In olive skin.

The next adventure
A one by one extraction.

Scars as my souvenirs.

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