Your eyes are like honey, and I am a fly,
Trapped in the sticky, sweet mess.
Your lips are like water on the hottest summer day,
and I can’t stop drinking long enough to catch my breath.
Your breath against my neck sends shivers down my spine.
Your hands tap the rhythm of a hundred rainy nights spend beneath a tin roof.
Your existence is music to my ears,
tuned to the perfect frequency to reach me.
I reach out, eager to express my love,
only to discover that all the words have been stolen,
and the stars aren’t fixed in the sky,
But they’re sure as hell not as broken as my mind.
We look up in wonder at the vastness of it all.
“How did we get here?” I ask.
“Where’s here?”
Then we laugh, and we can’t stop.
The ground rushes up to meet us.
We’re on the dewy grass, rolling in the moonlight.
Each piece of us is reaching for an ounce of recognition, a single modicum of validation.
We seek in each other what we couldn’t find for ourselves:
A place like this,
“Home.”
