home

i’ve seen seventeen houses
and you’ve seen just twelve
each time for you seems to get harder
as i grow excited,
your face hangs down after each one
as life becomes something
you didn’t want it to be,
not quite expecting
to build any sort of life with me

i stand in each kitchen trying to picture
us cooking side by side
the record player spinning
as you take my hand
back and forth we’re swaying
a slow, middle school kind of dance
not trying to follow the beat
of Love and Happiness

and i walk through each living room
looking for the fireplace we both want
hoping for
that perfectly comfortable couch
and cuddling close under blankets
the cat and dog sleeping nearby
the calming sound of logs crackling
and the feeling of your warmth
your body pressed gently against mine

i look for a sign of the future
what life could be in each home
if this is what would make us happy
or if this is where we move on