Finding Home

by HemmingPlay

I can’t go home, because
home has not stopped
moving yet.
But I do know that
this moment is real;
I know how your lips feel,
I know the heat and
weight of you
In the dark,
or pressed against me
at a dock, oblivious
of jealous eyes,
saying a goodbye,
wordlessly telling
me what feels right.
I know loneliness
melts
in the heat of the
grace of you.
Stay with me a while, dancer.
Let’s walk on the beach,
and look in the sands for courage,
and sit at dawn,
watching the day come up like thunder.

3 Comments to “Finding Home”

  1. There could be no worse time for me to stumble across your brilliant piece than with a heart so broken as it is now, and with memories so similar to your imagery!

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