I had already fallen in love
with far too many houses
when you showed up…
wearing curtains of strong roots and heavy anchors
in the small folded corners of your smile
I found a home


in the absence of a “home”
my childhood was littered with several houses
and although the rooms were packed with orange chairs
and blue kitchen tiles
the houses never filled the home
the home that I recognized
when I saw a hearth flickering in your eyes
the gentle heater hum that came from your heart
and though you showed no walls or windows
there was no deadbolt on your doors
but a roof over my head
that I held up with shaking arms
and our fingers interlocking
like perfect lock and key

I had already fallen in love  
with far too many houses
when you showed up
and I wish I had known than
that you cannot make homes out of people

he passed
and stroked
the leaves

and the whole tree shivered
like they were waiting for him

the petals are wilting

with no water

no sunlight

no one to brush the dust from the stems
and ask them how they're doing

we were so beautiful
we burned so bright
until we burnt out

or at least that’s what i’m telling myself

i beg him to block out their songs
to shut his eyes
and ignore the blue sirens

but it’s obvious
he is stealing glances
when my back is turned
sharing the air
when my eyes are closed
closing the space
when i know

my mom thinks it’s a hickey on my neck
and i’d rather her think that
than know it’s from your fingers
clamping my throat shut
with rage