Soft Warnings in the Wallpaper

At dusk, the living room grows lips; the patterns start to speak—

a flock of tiny ivy leaves that whisper at the cheek.

They murmur from the plaster seams in threads of cream and gray:

soft warnings in the wallpaper, no guest would hear by day.

~~

A blossom hides a siren coil, a trellis learns to sway;

The roses print a cautery where sentences decay.

The damask holds our arguments in arabesque and curve.

then curls a corner off the wall—the place we’ve lost our nerve.

~~

Along the baseboard runs a line: a hairline fault of doubt.

I trace it like a map of storms where “please” keeps wearing out.

We laugh too loud to drown the hints, make tea to hush the stain,

Yet every kettle breathes the script of something near to pain.

~~

Your keys hang from a nail that knows the weight of late returns.

The sconces blink like tired eyes; the pattern twists and burns.

Behind the couch, a faded sprig repeats a quiet “no.”

a caution woven centuries ago against a blow.

~~

Once, love was wallpaper itself—an easy, cheerful skin;

We papered over tender beams and called concealment a win.

But glue goes brittle when it learns a house has learned to ache,

and seams confess our careful lies in soft, decisive flake.

~~

I tug a loose, reluctant edge; it lifts like honest breath.

Beneath: a wall of knots and scars, of nail holes, dust, and depth.

You stand with steamer in your hands; the paste begins to weep.

Our room undresses grief by grief, and nothing falls asleep.

~~

We’ll sand the warnings into wood and stain them not to hide.

But let their grain read caution-loud—and keep the doors from pride.

No pattern to pretend for us, no paint to fake the glue:

Just open the studs and the morning light, and vows that learn what’s true.

~~

So when the ivy starts to hiss and florals start to fray,

I’ll thank the walls for speaking soft before we slip away.

A house that hums its little truths is one I choose to keep—

where warnings come in whisper-work, and love can finally sleep.