Cup on the table, coat on the chair Curtains drawn tight, evening held there I turn the dial down, settle the room Fold up the paper, clear off a space Then something bitter rises from the cloth Could be the street air carried on my coat I shake one curtain, watch it fall straight Tell myself somebody cooked too late Every small habit lands where it should Nothing looks wrong, so I call it good Still my breath goes shallow Before I know the reason I wait for the house to tell me What I am meant to believe in If the curtains keep the smell And the room won't say it plain I can wait inside the silence For a warning with a name But the air has changed already Though the walls don't make a sound Its silence is no proof I'm safe Maybe quiet lets me down I crack the window barely a hand Cold crosses in like a foreign demand I count one second, two, then three The room I know feels kinder to me So down comes the latch, back into place Warmth on the carpet, calm on my face Then from the far room: one clipped tone I stop with my hand still over the latch SAY IT PLAIN! No second answer, no steady ring Just pipes in the wall and the old clock's swing I check the curtain, seam by seam Blame the hall, the road, a half-lost dream But it stays in the fabric, dry and thin Not clear enough, too close to dismiss I stand where the window seals out the cold Waiting for certainty I can hold No heat on the handle No haze I can see Only the first smell of smoke Changing this room before I admit it One tone would tell me what to do One clear rule I could obey The house keeps withholding the answer And I keep calling that proof WHY WON'T IT RING? If the curtains keep the smell And the room won't say it plain I will wait inside the silence For a warning with a name But the air has changed already And my breath has found it out Its silence is no proof I'm safe Maybe quiet is the doubt Cup on the table, hand on the pane I wait for the sound I wait again
