I close my bedroom door to change
though no one’s home
and there’s very little chance
someone would come home right now.
That’s not why it’s closed.
I like the comfort of small spaces in the home.
Curling up in bed, on the couch, on the black wooden chairs.
It’s not so much privacy as it is a desire to be close.
I always wanted to be buried in the couch cushions as a child.
I hate open floor plans,
I need the comfort of small cozy rooms
and their support of closeness.
I long for tight hugs,
their sense of warm security.
Nothing can harm me when I’m curled up compactly.