Well then, I suppose some questions Are not to be asked. A sort of unwritten rule To keep us safe, maybe. Although I doubt we’ve ever Been concerned much with our safety; Maybe when we flew to the stars But not when we climbed a tree. Today I’ve discovered such a question Akin to flying to the stars And I absolutely mustn’t, mustn’t Ever, ever ask it. But don’t you want to know? Here it is: Whose permission Are you waiting for?

Nothing is missing in this house; Not a plate or fork or cushion. Even things I never cared for are here Alongside things I care for the most. Not the dog we’ve always wanted Or the cat I vetoed way too soon. It’s all here. All of it. All the time. The cold and the warm things And so much of the inbetween, Moments that somehow became A force to be reckoned with. I couldn’t count them all in a lifetime. It’s as if the Big Bang happens Every second of every minute I’m in this space with you. Nowhere else is quite as magical. A place to rival dreams. Ours.

Thing is I don’t really know how I’m just gliding through, And it’s not as if I ever Dreamed or planned anything That looks like this. Every day is just …steady. I love the gentle stillness You wrap me in alongside The freedom to exist Unaltered and in full view. I realise now I never needed wings.