Amelia's Mom's Closet

What I watched between my closed fingers and the narrow window of light
Stole my breath,
On the twenty-fourth of March.

I promised not to breathe
For her sake.
But my stomach lurched and
Wanted to escape through my mouth.
Her eyes glittered
When I looked at her
And I could smell her fear
In the dark.
My hands shook and I could feel
Ants crawling all over me.
A cloth hand on my shoulder
Taunted me.

Two and a half minutes
Spent completely silent.
After six more, we breathed openly.
I didn't want to open the door,
I wished we could stay invisible forever.