there were letters and numbers and figures
drawings and tattered cloths
blueprints and fingerprints and prints of old film
there was dust and comfort and lukewarm tea in spotty mugs.
there were holes in the walls of her broken down office building
in a town that only exists
on one map.
the sun always shone through
and sometimes the snow blew in
but the old office papers were scattered perfectly
and the nook in the attic was enough for her.
the mattress was old and the blankets musty
red and black plaid from her grandma's basement
with holes in the middle and
raggedy on the edges.
there were globes and maps and travel booklets
pictures from foreign lands
portraits of strangers all over the walls
and inside her,
only desire.
to go, and to see, and to love.
to travel and wander and experience.
to taste, and know, and find, to search and to discover.
to hold and release.
to love with depth as well as breadth
and to fly with the wind at her back, in her hair, under her wings, inside her chest.
the colors are vibrant without you
and the dust will be breathtaking before you stir it.
but you will be a welcome fabric,
and you will cast a beautiful shadow.
