And I am wound
And I am wound
like turpentine
for stripping down veneers.
And we are bound
like fiberglass,
hearts swaddling our fears.
In this house
of love rebuilt
the hammer strokes the nail.
The blueprint calls
for wooden joists
but I am made of steel.
And you are shingled
to the past,
the roof for our renewal.
While I am walled away
from loss
by bricks of seed and suet.
And you can peck
at my front door
with rainspouts full of tears.
But I will glaze the windows shut
with paint over the sills.
For I am wound
of memories
that wrap around
the things unsaid,
and ivy-choke the years.
