This is not My Beautiful House

Please take a seat at this table which is not my own

As you'll see, I've arranged it tenderly

I've collected the dog hair for your night cap,

My lover of small things, of citrus mold and oil spill puddles,

My special senser, my nervous picker

In this house, there are rules

But I've forgotten them

So I suppose you're free to snoop, but please don't steal

I suppose you can lie, though I'd rather you not

Because in this house, I believe you

This house is made of dirt and trees and bugs and bees and teeth and hair

And this is not my beautiful house

But the one I will settle into