we built Us with a capital U
a treehouse in a blue winter wood
(the one we stumbled upon together
in the dead center of our clasped hands)
you pounded every nail into every board
i tarped a makeshift roof over the frame
and even when it was nowhere near finished i pulled you inside
and with an eyebrow cocked and a goofy grin, you called it a good place
then you put the hammer to bed for just an hour
and we watched the willows make shadow puppets on the walls
in the light of a sugar-spun moon
when christmas still kicked dust bunnies around each nook
and when i said i love you too and meant it
i swear the words became shards of snow
fell over my entire being and softened to tears
as they reached my sternum
and you helped haul the beams for
this woodland abode well into the evening
i let the warmth in your voice thaw the marrow of my bones
and when it was done curled up next to you on the sawdust carpeting
and after we drilled our names into every single plank
you said, more sure: such a good place
and i pulled you into my arms
and with a kiss said: we did something right
and you said: no
God did
About the Creator
M.L. Sukala
I write because I have no other option with a voice and stories that demand to be told. Hit me up on Twitter @ml_sukalawrites or email at [email protected].
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