There are many reasons to love someone, each personal and
unique but they are all the only reason some of us ever need. Missing home is
just a reminder of that.
Missing
home
There were more Closed signs
than
Open, more reminders than
smiling
storekeepers to ease my heart.
My neighborhood fell brick by
brick
but I never cried.
The names of my friends poured
like
paint in rain, clogging gutters
with
dreams of large households that
would
never be-
it is these thoughts that kept
me
prisoner, rubbed the granules
of dirt
around my eyeballs but your
cool
lips have met my skin, your
long fingers
have gripped my weakness,
they have molded clay,
creating spires out of lumps,
building houses from the earth,
and I have not missed here
ever since.
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