Our Place

I burned my hand on the door
the way coffee makes your breath stink

The neon lights in our room help me sleep at night
when the foot is poking through my side
      I smile.

Trees and lights and balls
burned down the house on ash street last year.
We had everything we wanted
In our car.

The old KFC hat that hangs from the teapot shelf
leaves a grease spot on the wall, it’s okay.

The indentation on the rocking chair
is where we fight to sit on each other.

Yesterday was the last day of September
Today is the first 
I like where I am

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