An overdue entrance to a bed
where your old dorm blanket
and hand puppet stuffed hippo
serve as comfortable reminders
of days lived and time served.
Sometimes you share half
with a seed quartz crystal
others with a steadfast woman,
both heal with magic and mystery.
The sunlight plays on rock and iris,
as it fails to rouse you before noon.
I wanna live where the wind blows
through open windows onto lace curtains.
Where red lipstick stained glasses,
napkins and shirt collars lay.
Where beauty shapes every nook and
cranny and long hallway and high ceiling.
Ceilings so sloped and wonderfully high,
I can hear all of my cries and laughs at once.
Where we can stomp and swing dance and
slamdance and slide across rosewood floors
on wool socks we knit together. With the city
full of sounds, action, and the people we love
surrounding the elevated front porch and
a backyard of willows and crickets beneath
a silent and star soaked sky,
miles away in wild seclusion.