Forest

  My Lover, My House When I found you, past lovers had left their mark and stain, Had given you such baggage, such deep and lasting pain. I pulled a rotten mattress from your damp basement And dried the sodden air. I peeled back your carpets — that stained facade And polished the hard oak core that had stood the test of time. They say love teaches you, and  I was so afraid at first to find your breaker, Yet so confident as I pulled your innards through a power box and rewired your switch. I shocked myself, your power coursing through my body like a rush. Love is listening, and I pay attention to every groan and wrinkle I kneel on the floor and run my fingers along the crack between the baseboard and the wall. I smooth drywall mud over scars and come back the next day to sand it smooth. I make lists of all the things we’ll do together The painting, the replacing, the building and shaping. I nudge and change where I can but I love your imperfections even more. The mismatched lig...