home
let me come home
home is whenever I'm with you*

Home is where I forget how the earth feels beneath my feet,
because you leap so high and take me with you.

Home is what you call the static the moonlight makes
when it bounces off my floorboards at
1:47 am.

Home is when my mind hears those three chords and
it hits the same way it did the first time
(even if the twiddle and the bend are different now then they were before).

Home is whoever makes me laugh until milk
(and soup and coke and twinkies)
shoots out of my nose in a fit of glee.

Home is when I forget to take out my trash but manage to hide it
)in my sister's room(
and nobody gets in trouble.

Home is your sweater,
(and socks and trousers and suspenders and cap)
on my floor,
letting blue
(you)
melt into green
(me).