DISSOLVING
He has come home tonight
but he does not belong.
nobody answers his hammering,
his key doesn’t fit the lock.
his face curdles against the
glass,
but his mother, curtain clenched
in her hand, looks through him.
his voice does not reach her.
they have sat down at the
table.
the smell of their food taunts
through the letter box. He
squints
into a bright envelope of light. Moss
is spreading on his skin, and
in the night
drizzle his edges are dissolving.