The Two; II
The house was a blue,
A special kind,
Soft and sweet and inviting.
Old,
The blue was old, too,
Not in the way that the paint was chipping and falling,
But the color itself just felt,
Old.
Even now,
Standing at the front door,
Beside him,
She didn't really know what to make of the boy.
But, she knew,
She knew right away that she was in love with that house,
In love with that blue.
And when she walked inside,
She fell in love with the faded yellow walls,
Too.
Gently, he pushed the door closed,
A click in the door frame behind them.
She stood frozen next to him,
Eyes surveying the house,
Much the way they had him,
And when he peered,
Carefully,
Into those eyes,
He mistook the love in them,
For his own.
-E.K.
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