The master bedroom
Site of crazy dreams
She’d emerge in the morning
To make our toast and cereal
to regard our fails in her black flats
the magic bride whose luck
like her double wedding rings ran out
My brother and me
In rooms facing south
Our team daring magma wishes
And tracking dirt bugs cake
In the kitchen
spice useful herbs
baking
onions
from the ashes emerge tender delicacies
Beyond the tribal ruins
of the kitchen, and the marriage
The living room, slow as snails
A pushy cabin demanding to fit
Where there was no fit
from the dverse prompt of 10/13/20: use the what3words.com site as inspiration.
This is the house I lived in when I went to high school, and the last where my family all lived together. The italicized words are the ones inside the house, in the rooms described, and more or less in order. Also OctPoWriMo #13.
Xanku 
Sad memories of a broken family. A mournful read.
Wow. Just wow. You took those words and made them intense and broken and somehow inevitable. This poem grabbed me and made me want to reach in and pull you out of there. Amazing.
The appropriateness of the words was eerie. Very pareidoliac.
It really sounds like a place where you shouldn’t stay… suburban prison maybe
University town in farm country. But I’d move back there in heartbeat if I could.
This is so poignant, I could feel the ache and tension here palpable through the images you painted.
Very intriguing poem, I liked the line “from the ashes emerge tender delicacies” I like how each room is sectioned off and described here. If walls could speak so they say, great read!