Maybe

Let’s get a house with an attic
and fill it with holiday decorations
and pull it all down once a year
and rejoice in what we have forgotten we have
and smile knowing we haven’t lost what we love.

Lets get a house with floors worth treading
and dance all over them from front door to back
and walk them slowly in the middle of the night
and quickly at the end of the day to get to the dinner table.

Lets get a house with windows
and open them in the fall and spring while we do a deep clean
and let the breeze grab the sunshine, the lilacs, the sea
and bring it indoors back to us.

Lets get a house with a roof that keeps out the cold
but allows us listen to the rain while we fall asleep
and fills to the brim with music and laughter
and sometimes tears if they need to be shed.

Lets get a house with walls worth leaning against
in moments of deep sorrow and passion
on Thanksgiving Eve’s and day after Easter
on the Saturday mornings that make up a life.

Lets get a house with a few neat rooms
stuffed with love and with loving
the echo of my laughter and yours as we stir in the kitchen
or chase one another around the couch, tripping on laundry.

Lets get a house that is made of us
a little of you, a little of me too
our stories intertwining in as the steam rises
and fogs up the windows while we are kissing.

(These are places I’ve never been before,
in the places I’ve always known,
These are the moments I miss the most
When I am missing home.)