come

come,
come to this house,
where you can see
doors, windows
and walls
like any other;

come,
knock on the door,
or ring the bell,
or just step right in
without a sound,
walk away
when you feel like,
in silence,
or with a stomp, or a snort,
ignoring what's around;
or just pause for a moment,
to nod, smile
or whisper goodbye,
flaunting all that you found;

come,
come to this house,
where there's nothing,
where there's something
called me,
where you can leave
and take away
all that you find,
and still not take it all,
nor leave,
anything behind.