I wrote this as a love poem to my then girlfriend. A rewritten, private version became how I proposed to her. I moved around a lot as a kid; we never knew how long we’d be anywhere, never properly put down roots. I’ve aged into wanderlust and an appreciation of this lack of home. But I’ve never liked the rootlessness. I’ve never wanted a home, because I don’t fully understand what that concept means, but I’ve always dreamed of my own garden.