The desk by the window
where you pen your thoughts
  is beautiful.
  was here when you arrived.
  will stay when you go.

These rooms,
their walls, doors, windows,
  compose Home.
  are always different.
  are never truly yours.
Home asks for time
  to be found.
  to be grown.
  to be preserved.
Expecting its comfort
simply for showing up.
  is naïve.
  is futile.

Home found in transience
can only be temporary.
They are borrowed walls.
They are borrowed streets.
They are borrowed sunshine.
Borrowed air. Borrowed friends.
You are a guest
  in your rooms, town, country.
  in someone else’s home.
You are at home here
  for now.
You are at home here
  for now.
You are at home
  nowhere.
Expecting to escape yourself
by running away
  is futile.
  is naïve.

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