Aha, holding thy nerves well.
Am I visiting for the first time, and a la mode! A palace you have constructed for my advent. I am thy daughter, nominally so you cannot deny.
I will act out no part, but sojourn thy residence so I will have lived it. I ought to.
I will remove no sheet of calico woven in plush from your bed. Do you know how swathed thy baggy blanket my entire rear? It was warm, and outside was always too cold. So I would pull that on. Did you mind?
I will also not look under my desk, not in my closet, not so in my rucksack, and never under my bed.
I will run to the balcony that faces your backyard straightaway, seeking the flicker from the pole of two lambent lights built atop the off - white concrete of my neighbour's house colored in green.
Why, did I leave you at the door?
Why, did you not follow me?
Follow me to the rear of your own house. Don't tell me you have lost the way on white marble floor; follow me where the vantage of the spectacle of your ambience always catches the fancy of thy eyes - too congenial a taste on thy tongue in lieu; if not, follow me to the end of it all - the end of it all where I stand to greet you at the back with a little girl's vivacity as she stands on the doorstep for her father to be home.
Why! Have you not found your route yet? You know the way so well.
Why! My God! Daddy you are funny!
I am a kid. I am a kid.
'Tis against the kiln on the black bitumen of the road that the gate of your palace faces upfront. 'Tis close to the garden where sensed the skin of my...