A Closed Opening

There is a fragile window,

that has made its home inside my house.

It has grown roots in the air,

The dank air between him and I.

 

It is transparent and lucid,

And that is exactly why I wish,

For it to cease to exist.

 

If only I could reach through,

Those tangled ancient weeds,

And run one lonely finger,

Down the hair of him.