You unfolded the instructions like a bedsheet
And smoothed out the words with your palm.
First we identify all the parts, you said
To find the thing that’s missing. Or things.
It’s hardly ever just one thing.
The tools in the instructions, you pointed out,
We’d never seen before. Might have to make
Them out of scraps of other things we have.
Eventually that toolbox will have everything you need
but for now we just need a level and some sandpaper
So you can sand this grief to a shape that fits
the frame. Of what, I said. You read from the
Instructions: of that gap you fear so much.
If you look in that envelope included in the box
You’ll find the hinges of your life. You helped
Me sand and sand and mount the door
So oddly shaped and hear the bolt slide smooth
Like a finger through a ring.You folded the instructions
So the last line was all that showed and placed it
On my palm. What’s left, I said, the door is built.
You take your time, you said, and then walk through.