When I Talk About Home
I know
I can’t describe
the way a 4PM rain smells
at 5PM
when it’s a steam bath
walking home.
Or explain
why
I
rushed to a stage 3 times
to throw my bandana
to Willie Nelson
and how normal that felt.
Or paint for you
fully enough
or write a poesy perfect enough
about how the swamp
from a plane high above
brings salty tears
to the memories in my heart.
I know.
Ellespeth
beautiful
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