Coming In From Outside I cannot find my way through the house, clothes, dishes, perfect words, all hidden behind some cobweb. The rooms are uncanny, and I feel like an illegal immigrant, lost in an language I have never heard. Some door shuts, noise from a TV floats through the halls. I fall into bed and stare at nothing, my heart beating, my feet cool and bare, with a single blade of grass between two toes. Who knows what I have left outside?