Living in the Spare Room

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i wondered into your home,
not expecting to find you there
i tiptoed past your doorway
not believing you were really inside
i danced in your fountains
splashing water like a child
i dozed on your couch
finally resting after years of rushing

i ran through your hallways
pretending i had urgent business
i brushed past your children
not seeing your face reflected in theirs
i pretended to be your
caretaker, housekeeper, governess, hostess
i settled into a spare room
unpacked my baggage

until one day i ran
head long, crashing collision
ran into you
while running through your halls
(i’d almost forgotten i was in your house,
i’d made myself so at home there)

i’ve been living in your home,
eating from your cupboards,
swimming in your pool
pretending i was helping
pretending you needed me

but i’ve not sat at your table
and broke bread with you
i’ve not walked through your garden
and talked with you
i’ve not sat at your side
and dreamed with you

you wanted a bride
and i offered you
cook, cleaner, babysitter, gardener

you wanted my love
but i was too busy
to offer you anything but my service

is it too late to
leave that spare bedroom and
move down the hall?

 

 

 

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