Homesick

Breaths held,
Breaths given.
Words that expose
Or conceal
And notes of home
Cast spells
That bind
And crush my heart.

All these fictions
I entertain
Keep walking me
To the edge,
Where the air
Crackles electric.

And the words
Are a glamour.
And the words
Are a curse.
And the words
Are like wine —
A case of you.

And I cannot find
The silent way
Beyond these voices —
Past their judgements,
Past their temptations,
Past their confessions,
Past their hold on me.

I cannot find the way
Back home.

(Flight, Chicago to L.A.)

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About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

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