Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Domestic Poem

These white walls have seen my baby’s first steps,
And they have heard her called my name.
We have cuddled dreams in here.

These white walls have sung lullabies,
They’ve been climbed, punched, and painted:
Red lipstick smeared all over; all the measurements of my love are gathered here.

These white walls have been pierced and patched with patience.
They’ve had my back, and I have held their weight on my fingertips.
These  white walls and I know each other, and they know 
my walls are red and black and splattered all over.

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