When I first stepped through
this doorway, my arms heavy with past tenses,
I could still hear almost
everything else in my life:
the choreography of desiccated passions,
by fractions. Even the moonlight
hadn’t left me behind.
pressed down to blue. The color left its moods
by my ears.
From Turquoise Door: Finding Mabel Dodge Luhan in New Mexico
by Lauren Camp (3: A Taos Press, 2018)