in settling

the house is quiet,
built after several bitter months
of designing and planning.
every feature is carefully
curated, placed to be clever.

sometimes, in the evenings,
it settles.
floorboards creak under
a phantom’s step;
wind whistles through windows that
need sealing up. winter
is on its way,
after all.

at night, she settles in with
books and tea,
a teapot perched nine precise
inches away.

later still,
when it’s midnight, she tries to
settle
to the sound of the house
settling around her.

(it seems
there’s always some reason
to be unsettled)

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