the house used to dance along with us, the story it told:

- kitchen lights sparking to full of promise for the next new dish

- whispers and excited giggles flowing out of the bedroom

- a living room couch heavy with naps and cuddles

- clothing littering the laundry room dirty from adventures

but now the house lies dormant, no song to be heard, a robotic repeative dance in its place:

- wake up

- coffee

- work

- lunch

- home

- pay bills

- shower

- dinner

- repeat

i miss the hum of the house. i see you there. a roommate once more. stuck in this loop. somehow we have become lonely together, losing the dance along the way.