welcome mat

the entrance was a wasp under a mason jar.
you & me other other side telling the wasp
to consider the positives. pollination is at
an all time high. so much pollen & 
way too much nation. at his front door
i pretended to be reading something on my phone
but really i was checking the weather 
in san antonio (a place i've never been).
i am sadly not a vampire but i do have to be
invited inside. i need two doors worth 
of space. we brought the furniture in
through the window of the new apartment 
so no one would see exactly what we 
were carrying. sometimes, i dream of babies.
no having one or being one, just trying to imagine
what their thoughts are like. i am trying 
to return to my own bliss. i want to be cared for
in the most drastic of ways. food brought
to my skull. a carridge to deliver me.
i remember the afternoon my father installed
the doorbell in my parent's house. he tried
three sounds: sharp bing, church bells,
& a soft chime. we pleaded for him
to keep the church bells. no one rings 
the doorbell. no one wipes their feet either
so we track the world all over the house.
at your house, i always forgot to take off my shoes
& i say, "i'm sorry i forgot." i am sorry 
even if only in a minute way. on the "sorry" spectrum
i am hovering close to the middle at all times.
we built the house. all but the door
& gazed at the hole where it should be.
i told you i was scared to build. you carried
a bucket of nails & slung the hammer over your shoulder.
told me not to worry. no to worry at all.