Poetry (Day 7): Renovations



I met someone
a while ago and
she moved into
my life.

She brought her toothbrush and her
underwear and a charger
for her phone and I knew
it was serious.

It made me realise
how small my life was.

So I renovated to make room
for the love and the laughter and the
small moments that didn’t
seem to matter before.

I didn’t want
a different life, so I tried
to make it so
you couldn’t see
where my old life ended
and my new life began.

But that didn’t work.

There are obvious
seams and odd corners,
and doors to rooms
I no longer need.

There’s a tiny cupboard
that I never used anyway.

When friends come around
the old part of my life
seems uninteresting. Bland.

Instead, I tell them about
the colours she chose,
and I show them where
she sits to read;
in the window seat,
close to my hearth.

I open doors
to rooms that don’t yet exist—
rooms for marriage and children
and saturday nights laughing
at B-Grade Bollywood movies.

I explain
about the internal stairs
leading to blue sky and

(picture from http://www.nshomes.com.au/kitchen-bathroom-renovation-sydney/)

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