I’m in your home.
I’ve been here before
I know this, I notice.

At the end of your room
there’s an armoire
it’s been there forever,
you just never really payed attention
it’s brown and battered
and this means history
and this means you’re not interested.

Inside I’ve carved a map for you
and left
chalk to trace it, spackle to erase it.
You should better get going.

X marks the spot where you find your golden gloves.
O marks the spot where you are crazed by the noise from above.

The line in between is where monsters are born,
meet me half way.
I’m always North.

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