http://xuflspp6gvk3uhzkk2oyzgdodftg7wez45w7fwewbgpgua57722ihlyd.onion/poems/i-smile-too.html
Would it tell me about the rot in the beams, the weight of a hundred thousand days pressing down, the way the staircase moans at night not from age, but from something... else? A house can be beautiful, can be lived in, loved, touched - and still wish for the wind to take it apart.