I like having spaces, distances,
here and there empty,
rooms spared for later, maybe.
And I like being rest assured
that I'd left some seats vacant,
four-by-fours void,
as if bared under some kind of
yet undefined expectation.

Turns out, I'd like it more
furnished, and used, and set
close together.

Because what's coming
will always manage to find its own spaces:
under the blanket,
over the little space left
between shelves and ceiling.

It doesn't need to be spared some vacant seats,
or rooms void.

*

October 2014, from now on it'd be just me and my mom.
Suddenly the spaces become overwhelming. Suddenly the idea of living crammed, six-by-six shared by four, seemed so comforting.