The house appeared to be virgin,
but we knew otherwise.
When the builders slept
she left herself spread open
When she exposed her framing
we carved our names in her wood
When they gave her tiles
we lay on top of her and counted stars
When the walls became solid
we kissed in her corners and shadows
When the locks were installed
the first couple moved in,
and we walked past with our hands clasped.
(Published by Produce Literary Magazine)