Thursday, May 2, 2013

Moving (on)

Nothing fits in my new house 
Everything was custom made for the old space
The table, the couch, the bed
The curtains and the lamp shade
All of them scream salvation
But I insist on remixing them, in the new place

It's not too bad actually. I repainted the ugly bits
Changed the sequence and the mood
Threw in a little gypsy on the librarian
And then I was quite proud
Of refitting my dreams to this new present
I don't have to start over, entirely. 
I could at least build on my mistakes? 
(That asymmetric flower vase?)

But then there comes a thirsty night
And the walk from the bed to the fridge
Brings about this traumatic collision 
Of a knee and a table from the past..
Blue-green bruises, beckon more than chilled water,
Ice packs, in the middle of the night

That one moment is enough for a complete meltdown. 

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