As an adult I see an empty room

   (Nothing a tied together room unties 

   like knowing that it might be otherwise...)

filled awkwardly with furniture and art,

   (The rug, it's not a native plant; couch’s                

   constancy’s outcropped elsewhere than this floor...)

as a child I couldn't see the parts

   (We move out, in; arrangements need debouch

   estranged; new geometry account for...)

that made the room as distinct from the sum. 

   (Surveys, nightly, remind of awkward fits, 

   disputes lost, price tags I cannot unsee;

   unsettled sit, contingency besets 
   me as unease did princess over pea.)