523
lived in
any metaphor does
in a house
one thing after another goes
a bird might take a tile for crumb
or an ant carries down something loose
we're party to this vanishing
generations this way
the same with us all
always arriving and ready to go
even guests are the three day fish
but in the end you forget the address
you were always living up to
we all go to pieces
or blazes
and best
it's only ever crumbling to dust
you'll ask
'what house am I?'
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