To sleep in my own bed.
To yawn so early and hear familiar voices.
To listen to silly stories that I will forget
but will always remember how hard my laughter was when I heard it.
To sing vernacular songs.
To hum private fantasies and get lost in dreams
without thoughts of anything.
To not rush.
To read until i fall asleep.
To wake up to the smell of breakfast.
To be with old friends.
To visit places I’ve forged kinship with over the years.
I could smell the scents of memories as it wafts at me in my every visit
as I try to imagine the city embracing me as I slowly caress it again with my eyes, with my hands, even with my laughter.
It makes me smile to know I’m safe even if it is not completely true. For nobody is safe in this world but it is of comfort to feel it anyway.
I’m home and it brings a smile to my face.