Here and There.
Where I am.
Where I used to be.
Peppermint tea
Sofa
Blanket
And murmuring TV.



There.
A plate of pancakes with blueberry jam
A barking instead of an alarm.
Woollen socks drying on the heater
A white carpet outside one morning of winter.
A bus without a schedule
A driver annoyed by your smile.
Mom’s ageing arms
And conversations who make her cry.

Here.
Two cups of coffee left in the sink
Bottle of milk off again starts to stink.
Catching the bus at seven fifty-three
Going to work five times per week.
Suits rushing and pushing me
Meanwhile, I just want simply to breathe.
Grocery, laundry and burning a pan
Just to hear you snoring while sleeping in my hands.




Here and There.
I built a house
For me to grow.
Where my dad used to tell me the stories
Now I make them my own.