how long is it a home

from which depths do these leaves fall beneath, 

a tossed bit of star around a window

an endless reminder of fending off time

seeing it before you feel it

like a bomb through a thousand feet of glass

treasures are my favorite things

focusing in and out just right until you become one

wrapped up in an autumn blanket

made of sweaters from forever ago

couldn't tell you apart from the pile

I didn't notice you'd left that first night

I cried the next morning and everything broke down

I burnt my mouth on the coffee

I burnt the coffee

The dog ran away

I watched the world fracture out into a million pieces

until the tears cleared

fabricating our naked selves 

when the webs feel like home

when we call it home ourselves