So the man seized his concubine, and put her
out to them;
and they knew her,and abused her all night
until the morning.
And as the dawn began to break,
they let her go. And as
morning appeared, the woman
came and fell down at the door
of the man’s house
where her master was, till it was light.
—Judges 19: 25-26
Doors that don’t open
are the ones remembered.
Knock. Knock. Scratch.
She learned the many darknesses
of how full
emptiness can feel.
A body tires of things
inside. No one slept that night,
not the woman,
the master, the men
or if they did, only God
(also called He) saw
and recorded it.
It would be easy to see her
as a dog, obedient
at the door
her nails the last
thing to break.
She fell. It was light.
Or rather the sun came round again.