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What was

I opened your empty house and saw everything. That main door, that name plate, the easy couches, the glass, the water, the boxes, the cupboard above the door, the balcony, the orange border, the oversized furnishing, the lace, the hung shirts, the towel rod, the tiles, the paint, the gas, the plates, the curtains, the rug, the glass shelf, the tap, the plants, the bowl, the heater, the speakers.

It felt like my home.

And then, just like that, it was your home, and I was only a stranger trespassing.

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