Two brushes in clumsy hands,
Walls painted red and white.
The paint on your chin, wrong
Or a kiss gone extremely right?

The mesh on the door,
Veils your face, my twin.
As you leave me on the porch,
The door creaking when you go in.

The hose, with water gushing,
Drenching you that Winter night.
Hurried hands made you coffee,
Lit a cigarette, quite in fright.

Our chimney, a stubborn child,
Refusing to spit out the smoke.
Some days you'd forget to take measures,
The vents closed, it made us choke.

Earthly smell, the wood,
Warmth of skin and our bedsheets.
Towel wrapped, barefoot,
Emerging like Spring's spree.

Our neighbours, the trees,
The Lady Oaken, staring.
While Mr. Fernis looked on
From behind the garden clearing.

To this day I live,
In the House that has never been.
Come when you will, little one.
We'll build that House of your dream.