On “The Perfect Home II” by Do Ho Suh by Francesca McDonnell Capossela

Waiting our turn at the exhibit

I turn away from silk––powder blue

turquoise, carnation; colors to swaddle

a newborn in, colors to comfort a foreigner––

and speak to our new landlord

on the phone, in half a language.

When it is our turn, we enter in silence.

The installation is an apartment: perfectly constructed

in thin fabric. Every detail preserved. An homage

to a home, by an artist for whom careful observation

is synonymous with love.

Delicate and phantom, it was the artist’s second home,

a different kind of perfection.

Still, a reproduction never does

reproduce. Gauze sags. The outlets droop.

But look at the exhales suspended,

the laughter creased and billowing,

a home without a house. And yet, I prefer

our apartment, lovelier than this colorful dream.

The realness of hard morning light

your untamed hair, a halo.

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Francesca McDonnell Capossela is a poet and writer from Brooklyn. She is currently completing her first novel about daughters, bodies, bonds, and boundaries. Follow her on Twitter: @CheskaFranny.