I never felt attached 

to the translucent lights that dance across the glass 

my cheeks flushed with mercurial energy  

pressed against the window

31,000 feet in the air 

numb to the overly affable state signs

that beckon me across camouflaged state lines 

I never felt attached

to the warmth of your sun-drenched fingertips 

the smell of autumn left on my pillowcase 

and the baritone timbre of your voice 

emitting halcyonic laughter 

into the candy musk air 

I never felt attached

to the familiarity  

to the places they call home 

Person. Place. Thing. 

I never felt attached

and some may pity 

what they demand I need

Community.

Companionship.

But what is home 

if not comfort 

the comfort I’ve learned for myself

the abundance of experiences 

gathered across state lines 

and in his halcyonic laughter 

still not

Person. Place. Thing.

but instead woven into the fabric of my being

Home.