would you be mad

one time we were walking and had no idea where we were

we smelled it first

wet and smokey,

a familiar smell, the one that bubbles up when you pour a bucket of water on a campfire

we saw a house

all charred

fresh from its fire

we found it sad

but mostly we found it beautiful

you took a picture of me there

that picture was important, though i can’t remember why

when we walked other times we would try to find that house, most often unsuccessfully.

i found it yesterday though

and i saw the frame of a house

brand new.

(the perfect metaphor wasn’t lost on me)

would you be mad if i called us a burned down house?

we’re apart

and they’re building a brand new house.