Behind the door the dream held fast,
divided you from me,
and in the darkling, shadowed eyes
was birthed a new-found fear.
The thoughts of you laced creamy flesh,
and quivered in the night,
and yet the bolt was driven fast;
held captive till the light.
There was no way that I could turn,
the handle of my heart,
and open wide to bones of doubt
which held the shape you cast.
Write a poem or short vignette using the picture featured in this post as your inspiration.