Home/Here

The familiar scent and sound

present but faded,

like painting over graffiti.

I am here, I am everywhere.

The rolling hills,

the salt in the air,

miles away from the ocean,

miles into the mountains.

Heat and sweat and humid breeze,

sand and dimly lit tunnels.

Dirt path, skyscrapers,

rivers bathing, treetop embraces.

Soft flakes fall against my skin,

cold and comforting,

Not unlike your arms and cotton sheets.

Wonders of the world,

foreign to a small creature like myself.

But they do not compare to the comfort of the home

at the end of the winding drive,

rocky and never quite finished

like me.

Rundown walls, functioning walls,

everything, all of it, with you.

I am here.

I am home.