Conversation walks the hallways of our past.

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We hold hands and breaths
With equal force,
Concentrating our will unto oblivion.
Our together touch is as busy
As memory allows,
Conversation walks the hallways of our past
Opening doors
Peering into unused rooms
Remembering both the hurt
And the pleasure
Taken inside each one.

The edge where carpet begins
Invites inspection,
Shows where our softness starts.

Curtains billow with errant winds
As we are in the habit of doing
Yet we always tuck ourselves in
Lest we fray.

We erect sentries
To vanguard
Our sensitivities,
Hiding behind the bastions
Of empty threats.

Yet we continue exploring
As we must.
Seeking the hearth
Where warmth will blaze
At our mutual command,
To make our shadows dance
And melt our cold reserve,
Preventing outrage in stereo.

Cries quieted by kissing,
Floors polished by our bodies entangled,
We give the eggshell walls our scent,
The kitchen our unselfishness
And we give this house
Our home.

Liked it
  • hfj on Mar 2, 2009

    Very creative piece. Well done

  • Leroy Altman on Mar 2, 2009

    Well written, enjoyed reading

  • QuinMonty86 on Mar 2, 2009

    I really like this. How we infuse a building with our spirit to make a house a home. Loved this piece!!

  • Ruby Hawk on Mar 2, 2009

    Right, our house takes on our spirit thats why it falls in disrepair so quickly when empty.

  • papaleng on Mar 2, 2009

    beautiful and heartfelt, great imagery too.

  • Yovita Siswati on Mar 3, 2009

    I love this. nice pic too!

  • CutestPrincess on Mar 3, 2009

    great imagery… nice post!

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