These Houses, These Words

7/31

These houses are mine.
These walls and turrets of sinew and ether.
I built them myself, many times before,
Conjuring them like fortresses from the
Reservoirs of my emotions.

I never knew these hands could craft
The shelter for all that my heart held -
You were the first to believe that strength,
And you showed me the firmness of the
Rafters, the grandeur of the gilded halls,

The halls I built with these very words,
But down which you were the first to guide me
With eyes wide open;
These walls are supple, they stretch,
They've attempted to cross borders, cross rivers,
Even cross oceans.

I allowed them to crumble, grow weary,
When I no longer believed I had control.
But with one look and a word you
Raised them up, stronger than they were,
Or, rather, you pulled the cords inside my chest
That caused these bones and heart to stir,

And would you could know the power of your glance
To set these towers singing
As once more I use them to send out
A ferocious call to you,
Wherever you lay,
Wherever you are,

That at least from a distance,
I can be a protector,
And that you might sense my arms there,
With these houses, with these words,
And think, for a moment, of me.