One of my writing students said, “Tore toward the stairs” the other day, and I thought it was too precious not to use. Thanks to Read Write Poem for the “play with sounds” prompt (number 68)

TORTURED, THE STAIRS

Eloise blamed the walk and was right.
No one wanted to deal with six flights
up to her loft, the view from her door
of switch-backed steps before
the half-landing where she smoked
and made eyes at the neighbor boy,
then up and up to the attic
that creaked in the sway of wind,
a dent of loneliness in her throat
when nothing came to join her
but the idea that something might.