On the table in front of me is a stack of books

The first authored by Bell Hooks,

Someone else taught me her name


In front of the fireplace is plant stand that I still need to give a friend

A house-warming gift now several months late

As I’m pleasantly entwined in a near constant exchange of things, ideas, and place


On the wall a photo of Tom Petty

Put there by the man who owned the bookstore

I learned to love in

A print of Claude Monet’s “the lilies” sitting in the floor

Mugs with coffee stains from each destination I’ve traveled for

A raven holding a lightbulb in its beak

Two pieces of granite on the shelf, carved to act as bookends


I’m an amalgamation of every token of affection

Stitched up by “I was thinking of you”


Parts of me are that are wholly mine are so few

I’ve been slowly built up over time

By lovers and dear friends

This house would not be home

If it were not filled with the things given to me by their hands


I hope that when they reach for the teacup, art, or the trinket I’ve offered

They know much I treasure this constant exchange of love and life

And know that anything I find beautiful will never be coffered