Room in Antwerp (Laure-Anne Bosselaar)

I think I love this poem by Laure-Anne Bosselaar. I've never heard the poem before nor of the poet, but what's expressed in this poem is so native to me it's odd to think it's the first time I've read it.

The aspect of a thing without you, your presence. What's to a thing like that? That line about knowing only a corner of their room. Yes. There is so much unseen and unknown and guessed at and described (in poetry) only by feeling. Can't you find the world in only that corner? Maybe that's what she means by "[I] still don't know how to understand / that word only". I simply love this poem.

Favorite line: "Dust covers the window, but light slips through -- / it always does"

Dust covers the window, but light slips through—
it always does - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/23559#sthash.ZVHG5uah.dpuf

still don't know how to understand
that word onlyst