The house didn’t just crumble
No
There was a full blown implosion…again
And it left her burned and in bits
Gasping for air and clawing toward the surface
Searching for just a flicker of light between the debris…. Again
And it’s happened over and over and over again
But she always rebuilds with a fearless heart —
Groundless loyalty to a territory with an unreliable foundation
Is she a masochist or a visionary?
An architect who know’s something that we don’t?
How else could she be so uncalloused
So open
So… Naive
But then again, the world often underestimates the strength that lies in sweet naivete
Take the word “Romance” for example:
When they say it, their lips curl
They bare their teeth
They spit the two syllables from their mouth like it’s a dirty word
Because they’re afraid
But not her…
She sighs it out
Sings it even
She chases it down like a huntress
As if she forgets how her prey of choice has made a habit of
Tearing chunks of flesh from her bones
“It always grows back,” she muses
And for a moment she didn’t realize what this was
She didn’t realize that her demolished house was a house again, indeed
That it was a home, even
That you wanted to be invited inside
But your letters kept showing up on the doorstep
And she returned them always with love and flowers and smiles and good vibes
And they were all for you, even if she didn’t know it yet
And just like that she charters an aeroplane
And just like that she pulls you down on the grass in a public park at 2 in the morning
You’re sharing the same cigarette
You’re kissing in a liquor store
And just like that…
Your forehead is pressed to her shoulder and your legs are underneath her
Words could be knotted together forever and still not describe
Just how perfectly your limbs are intertwined
And just like that you slide your hand down the front of her jeans
Now there’s nothing between your skin and hers
She sings a song in her head
Your moving fingers keep the beat
And she could stay this way for quite some time, she thinks…
