I prove a theorem and the house expands:
The window jerks free to hover near the ceiling,
The ceiling floats away with a sigh.
As the walls clears themselves of everything,
But transparency, the scent of carnations
Leaves with them. I am out in the open
And above the windows have hinged into butterflies,
Sunlight glinting where they\'ve intersected.
They are going to some point true and unproven.