My Floor...

My floor is where I learned my version of the ABC’s

My floor is where I had late night tea parties.

My floor has a bloodmark from when I attempted wrestling moves,

My floor has been cherished by any girl that’s attended one of my sleepovers.

My floor is where I put my feet when I pondered the question…. “what is love?”

‘My floor is where I sang to Gwen Stephani, my lips at the end of my hairbrush.

‘The first meeting place of my first love, a orange-spotted Calico.

‘My floor is where I stretched out my legs and practiced my gymnastic moves. Haters jealous of my tiny waist & long legs

‘My floor is the place where my mother cradled me after Joanne Bates made fun of my “peanut-breasts.”

‘My floor is the place my toes curled above as Liam March asked me out on a date. My heart could barely contain itself

Where my friends and I treated each other as pinatas.

My floor is where I sat and cried when I heard that my grandpa had passed.

Where my dad and I began our walk down to my prom date, Jeremy.

His floor feels warm, but unfamiliar.

His floor is where I first learned to strum a guitar.

I spent the night on the fuzzy carpet the first night I decided I was mad at him.

His floor is where I mended a bra strap, before meeting his family.

Where Sparky learned the word “sit.”

His floor is where I completed my dissertation.

His floor is still a mystery to me. But I hold out hope that someday, it will be known simply as “Our floor.”