Haunting

My Room Is White by Mia Doi Todd

My room is white, the walls and all my appliances, all compliances.
I live in silence, my windows closed to traffic, all that racket.
You are the opposite. I could never fit into your apartment.

Are we going to give up? Are we going to try?
Are we going to give up? Or are we going to try to learn what life is?

The tide comes in, and we’re caught by the rocks and the wetness neverendless.
We kiss for the first time, our lips and tongues tied in fitness infiniteness.
Then the ocean pulls back somehow, to reveal a crowd of uncertainty.

Are we going to live up to the words we said?
Are we going to live up to love we made?

A house, a garden, a family tree, fruit aplenty, all varieties.
Desire fulfilled, inspired until the awakening from our daydreaming.
Here in reality, what we make believe we can make happen.

Are we going to give up? Are we going to try?
Are we going to live up? Are we going to die?