I break in to the houses I used to live in
looking for the version of myself that lived there.
She’s never there
but it doesn’t stop me from dragging my fingers
over the painted walls
and feeling my feet on those floors.
Every time I do it,
I remember the way I walked through the house in the dark-
knowing the corners
and the turns.
But now there’s something
that is not quite right about the layout.
It’s minor things that change,
that door- two inches from where it used to open
or that light-switch- on the opposite wall.
Subtle changes
that if I didn’t come back
I would’t know were there.
I memorize the changes
so the next time I come here
looking for myself
I won’t get lost in what changed
while I was gone.
blue sky infinite 