THE HOUSE THAT BREATHES
- 7 days ago
- 1 min read
By Yati Ramli
The house inhales at night.
Its walls ripple with unseen lungs,
doors sigh on their hinges,
and the staircase beats like a slow heart.
I wander room to room,
listening for your footsteps.
They are not here -
only the hush of curtains,
the small rustle of spiders in corners.
Yet there is beauty in this haunting.
The dark does not lie;
it tells me everything remains,
only changed -
your laughter woven into floorboards,
your shadow pressed into glass.
The house exhales.
I breathe with it.