Revolving Door

Turned around and went back in.
For forgetting? Reverent reversal? Bygones bygone?
Space is the date's cousin: where light gets in depends on the trees.
Years ago, I was small.
                                      Today, I am just as tall,
                                                     but there is a house where once it was fallow.
A feral life comes out of the wild, though a phone's job is to ring.
Ineludible allusions swivel on bricks bearing circulars.
See my glossary: the compass' revolutions per minute.
                            Resist or go all in?
Doors are dichotomies, Manichean Mondays;
                                          Sunday resentful,
                                          Tuesday preventful.
The sun's my home's uncle though, and he pays the bills.
                        Sets don't care if you light a match.
Lengthy pages indicate ten thousand faces have each as many choices.
Galaxy-wide beings scatter while bacteria subsist;

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