nectarines

[asyouretold]

i have my own room now, and it feels unfamiliar: the floor is bare, the shoes organized, the bed spacious. the immaculate state of things, though undeniably temporary, throws me off. i've always been a child of chaos, more or less, and i suppose near two decades doesn't change all that much. and it's true, you know, that home has two definitions: a) physical structure in which you build your life - slab of concrete, pane of glass, and b) metaphysical expanse from which you are built - often uncomprehending, negligent of time or space. the two are not one and the same.

nonetheless, my townhouse is painted yellow, the color of homemade lemon sorbet, and that's a detail that makes me smile as i climb the brick steps.