He offered me a home – a
home of two rooms,
one I named mirror & the other
I named gold. Whenever you gaze
at the bay window, there is a reflection
of light from gold, resting on
the sinew of mirror.

& on gold’s face, happiness
erected a chapel. Yesterday, I told gold
to look into the mirror & behold her beauty,
she laughs & the room whiffs
lilies. Inside its fragrance, there is a
blue-sky photograph, holding
hands with my future. I whispered

into her ear its colours. She echoed
& stuttered – like Moses of Jochebed,
‘don’t forbid these rooms, they
are smiths reshaping thy future’
Now, my body reveres my home – mirror
the light on my pathway & gold the colour
of my future. Here I am, indoors. Will I ever
lease my home to cobwebs?



Photo by RODNAE Productions from Pexels