The perfect home
is one that simply isn’t perfect at all
because it knows
perfection is the enemy

The perfect home
asks you, and only you, to like it
in opposition to
your ego
just begging for likes

It is steadfast in its ability to provide calm

A home
holds space for you to create
even when
there’s dishes to be done
and a coffee stain on the floor

You can and you must
make space for your mind to wander
away from the ordinary
past the routine of shoulds
into the deep where clarity lies

On your worst days it holds you
Yet, on others, it opens up its doors for love
Making space for your best and worst selves to just be

Mine gently pushes me outside
to wander through purple and yellow
when I’m blue

It welcomes me back in
when I’ve remembered to breathe in the breezes

My house
above all
is finally mine

I chose it whole heartedly
by signing on the dotted line

She’s imperfect, but beautiful
like someone else I know

I found out today
that Alba hums a little song
every time she misses me
in school, on car rides, seconds before shutting her eyes

It’s just a few notes
strung together perfectly
inciting a memory
a reminder of me

What if I’m meant
to follow her lead
instead of my tired role
of a person
doing an impression
of someone who knows it all

She’s figured out how
to find me
without words at all

I used to hum when I was little, too
to wish away sadness
But, wishes are for all sorts of things

Like how we use her favorite flower
the dandelion
before morning school bus rides
to dream
dozens of them all together
in unison
spread into the wind

She says she wants to be
a writer like me
We’ll live side-by-side forever
writing stories
She draws the pictures
while I find the words
Two dreams
of two girls
mingled as one
I can’t think of anything better

So, that’s it
the reminder I needed
to know that I
carry her
carry him
They don’t need to see me
to feel me
gently guiding them
until we are
all laughing together again