cathedral of dominos

we should not move. we should
instead hold our breath to keep
the sky in the sky. i once found in
a field-side forest a cathedral 
of dominos. i cannot believe how much
i did inside it. i kissed boys. i kissed girls.
i wore wedding places. i ate a ghost
down to the bone. nothing destroyed it.
every day though i was aware of the walls.
how, one wrong breath could undo 
the whole thing. i would stare at 
my ceiling all night imagining someone else
finding my secret place & destroying it
while i was not there. i would then get up
& walk barefoot through our neighbor's yard
into the corn fields to find my cathedral intact.
once in awhile i would wonder who made it.
why would someone make something
so beautiful but so easy to destroy? i guess
that is the story of the world. a town 
up the street from where i grew up 
had a tornado the year before i was born. 
it tore doors off houses. followed
the railroad. a wheelless train. tore up
a whole street. today there are
mobile homes there & a few split houses. 
i started to find dominos everywhere. dominos
in the sink. in my hair. sometimes they would
talk to me & say, "build." i would of course,
what else is there to do with you hands &
all the dead? i lost track of the cathedral. 
they harvested the field. i would walk but could
never find it again. once though i found a domino
in my sibling's bedroom. that made me wonder
if maybe they had been there too. had we
been there at the same time? had they at least maybe
gotten to see it come undone? that is my only regret.
i wish i could have seen the way the dominos
fell into each other. the chatter of their teeth
as the walls peeled away, leaving us bare 
to the moon.