Suddenly I desire to be an empty house
In an isolated village.
It should be bare and empty.
But pleasant,
With a fragrance long preserved,
And waiting for someone to move in.
An empty house
As clean and tide as it might be,
Yet open and simple,
From whence I can see the sky and the stars.
Someday
Its master will open the door and enter,
Softly saying, with a smile, “Oh I really like it.”
It is clean and lovely as I desire it to be.
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