back to the new house

[vehementoolbox]

Words echo in rooms unfurnished
hammering ricochets off
freshly painted walls.
You, my handyman,
rough and worn, working
from first light to last,
are loveable once more.

The new house is bare
and barely anything yet.
Disagreements are in boxes,
failures in storage too.
Floorboards full of potential
nail us together again:

Nails in my mind,
paint on my nails.
Paint’s going to my head.

You say if I get dizzy
I should take my tea outside.
Concern makes me happy
because interest is trustworthy.
You can trust a handyman.