sincerely, periwinkle walls

I like to believe that a bedroom
can say a lot
of the person
who claims it
       and if that is so
       I wonder what mine might say of me
       what these four walls
       whisper about me
       while I sleep
              what these lights strung high
              think of my messy brown hair
              & if the floors ache the moment my
              perpetually cold toes tip toe across the room
                      I wonder if my unlaced shoes on the floor
                      look lonely or loved
                      and if the records spinning
                     around & around
                     flatter the three vases of flowers with every line
                     and melody of the songs they sing
                                   and if the window in front of me
                                   wonders what lays beyond my
                                   surface, just as much as I wonder
                                   about the things that lay
                                   beyond its glass
                                             then I suppose my room
                                             must have a lot to say
                                             about me.