Angel on the line

He’s opening the door,
It’s her voice, quite higher than his,
whispering about how big the cockroaches have been getting lately.

He holds the door,
But he pushes her away.
She’s waiting down below, swimming with spirits again.

He closes the door,
Vein attempts to keep the howling out
It doesn’t open until he hears her limping back to the forest.

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