One more dance
Around this house
Another walk
Around this city
I haven’t called anything home yet
Except that feeling I get
when it’s Eartha or Cecil
or I’m writing or it’s summer or I’m coming
or I’m in the throes of goosebumps
at the top of the coaster at the start of the drop
or between clean sheets that feeling I get
standing in front of live music
that feeling I get that no slow trapdoor’d aorta
can squander or shove into floods

that je ne sais quoi that keeps me afraid
to lose any to miss all of it