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Array
(
[sid] => 67109
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Our House
[time] => 2004-10-12 11:56:52
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => There’s a table set for two in the back of our house, With a white cloth lain over to disguise the worn surface. There’s candles of different sizes ready to be lit for celebration, And borrowed shiny silverware ordered neatly. There’s chopped firewood born from the labor of my body. It’s set aside and ready to keep us warm as we dine. There’s a written letter sprung from the depths of my heart. And it’s placed in an envelope and secured with a velvet bow. There’s a small window where I would watch you, Fold the laundry on Sundays before you come out to the yard. There’s a thin wire secured between two trees. Which we’d hang our clothes to dry during the afternoon. There’s a small step leading to the door, That I’d trip on before I got used to it. There’s a knob covered in white paint, That I turn clockwise each day to let myself in. There’s a staircase that I chase you up into our bedroom I fell in love with the cracking sound of wood beneath our feet. There’s a large bed where we’d share our bodies. And decorations we agreed on that fill the room. There’s a jewelry box on your nightstand. It has the earrings I gave you just last month. There’s pictures of us traveling far from our home. That are taped on a mirror you use in the mornings. There’s an empty room next to ours. Close enough to hear the baby’s cries. There’s a bowl in the kitchen. For which our dog circles twice before eating. There’s so much love in this house for us, As I wait desperately for you to return. But I’m only fooling myself since you left me last week. And I should stop imagining that this ever existed. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 204 [topic] => 22 [informant] => tman [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )
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