come here, inside this house
where you can like all kinds of music hip hop or rap or pop or experimental harp music
you can even like to smoke cigarettes in the yard
you can complain about food you can cry as much as you like if you swear you have to put a quarter in the jar but no one will stop loving you you can eat pizza or only kale and you will still be loved without condition
you can be a sober drug addict or a pre adolescent angry girl or a laker’s fan or a heat fan
you can wear black patent nike high tops or organic cotton there will be soup for you if you want it there will be a bed if you need it there will be a dripping faucet and messy closets and stacks of papers and a dog who will jump on you and possibly tear your clothes there will be scraps of old master paintings, lace and jewels to make collages there will be books to read and lemons on the tree and dust bunnies under the couch no matter how many times i swiffer
there is always a beautiful child singing in this house
sometimes there are children fighting there is always a dog barking when you are trying to meditate
i used to dance and write love poetry in this house now i melancholy fondle each day like a prayer bead and let it go
hoping you might come inside some time
to dine with us