when somebody asked me what
a home was,
all i could think about were
the constellations formed with each
connected tip of your fingers to
the different, beautiful parts of your body
and how it scattered along
the galaxy of your skin

in technicality, homes were supposedly
made of brick walls and four corners,
but mine was made up of skin and bones

ive never encountered a home as
fragile as you, but as far as im concerned,
i have no plans to move