Tender

As twenty somethings tend to bathroom mold

In strange sloping ceiling and foor spaces, music blasting out the feeling they might not be alone hot sauce rolling across the undulating foor

A sliding desk chair pulling away from the wall

Tender as the wine stories they tell each other

Under a deep ghoul bat attic with tilted beams with a fat little loftling living up there, all warm

A funny screeching thing who hates egg smoke, and bread smoke, and all the things they do

They know loftling has a favorite spot up there, through the kitchen’s shit speckled skylight

To eat roof warm cherries and leave the pips out staining and then blame it on the birds

Tender as their herringbone foors, thin above cavernousness. It’s possible downstairs neighbors are gone, leaving wide two open gutted out foors and a bigger, rounder houseling hums from below knees tucked under its chin, filling out the building. Possible that the soft crown of its head pushes up their doming foor, creaking beams and warping doors.

The upstairs loftling doesn’t like madonna

It shuffles nervously when they put her on

- Aurelia Cowan