The hallway mirror is veined with gold paint,
each square a repetition of the last,
making the distance from the living room
to my bedroom look farther than it is.
One step, two steps, three and safe
to hold the door shut with thin arms
against whoever wants in tonight.
My parents buy a lock,
it’s broken within a month.
Replacing it would be a waste of money.
Jennifer Schomburg Kanke is originally from Columbus, Ohio and currently lives in Tallahassee, Florida where she teaches creative writing and critical theory at Florida State University. Her work has appeared in Prairie Schooner, Pleiades, and Nimrod.
Read an interview with Jennifer here.