I rearranged my kitchen
parallel path
to building huts
on the side of a small volcano
A human instinct
as old as time itself
satisfaction innate
as I turn my surroundings
into something past and present
Will my house be perfect?
Never.
Do I love it?
Very much.
Our huts were disposable
now my life depends
on a cottage roof
Rain out. Love in.
a place to play, and be real...
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