On moving day, we would carry out our beds, Our dressers, the sofa and dining table, Wipe down any trace of ourselves from the counters. We would vacuum up our footprints. Burning a candle in the windowsill of the empty rooms Leaving behind country apple or cherry blossom In our stead, Blowing out each flame without making a wish- And that security deposit would be ours. In every house I watched you, I listened. I held your words in one hand while trying to work with the other, Because there was no place in me to put down what you said. There was no space unless I gave up something else in me. In one new house, the garage door was padlocked And we had to cut it off Before we could settle in. We did not know what the house looked like inside but we called it home. “Wait ‘til you see,” you said excitedly, while We waited, fidgeting, in between homes with all of our books, our blankets, Our clothes and kitchen gadgets.
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Moving Day
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On moving day, we would carry out our beds, Our dressers, the sofa and dining table, Wipe down any trace of ourselves from the counters. We would vacuum up our footprints. Burning a candle in the windowsill of the empty rooms Leaving behind country apple or cherry blossom In our stead, Blowing out each flame without making a wish- And that security deposit would be ours. In every house I watched you, I listened. I held your words in one hand while trying to work with the other, Because there was no place in me to put down what you said. There was no space unless I gave up something else in me. In one new house, the garage door was padlocked And we had to cut it off Before we could settle in. We did not know what the house looked like inside but we called it home. “Wait ‘til you see,” you said excitedly, while We waited, fidgeting, in between homes with all of our books, our blankets, Our clothes and kitchen gadgets.