i miss that house
the way the room looked from the outside in the dark
the way the trepid light made me feel i was dreaming
the creaks of the cupboard
and the tumbling washer

the morning light through those lengthy windows
and dressing in the mirror mural surrounded by my colors

whistling sounds and foot steps
glasses clinking
and onions frying

being there and not being there
knowing what was in that space
and what was not