The sound of my parents’ laughter

The sound of my parents’ laughter is ageing beautifully,
Every time it seeps into my ears
From a distant corner of the house
My own stand rigid, like a dog’s on a night full moon,

I want to store it in round,
Transparent Tupperware boxes–
They’re invincible, I’ve come to learn
So it’ll survive for as long as I keep it,
Unafraid, unopened, away from the rest of the world,

I want to trap it in bookshelves
So nobody else will know
What it is that fills my heart
Like an overwhelmingly mediocre combination
Of dreams that have been reborn and
Those that have lost their allure,

I want to hold it in the inside of my palm
Like I held ice, when I was young
Trying to keep it from melting away
I liked to think I could stop all the wrong,

I want to smear it all over the whitewashed walls
So it echoes your ubiquity once you’ve gone
But I’m afraid I’ll be leaving sooner and quicker
No attachment: just like you always taught.

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