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I wish that I could somehow unimbue This Place -
this seemingly meaningless patch of geography -
with this deep, uncontrollable affect
which melancholy and longing have imparted to it,

wish that I could separate out the fullness of my head,
the racing of my heart
from every arrival Hence,

wish that I could somehow prevent the heaviness of each footstep
upon This Ground,
as my blood rushes out the newly re-formed chasm in my heart
and pounds against my feet,

reaching for This Earth -
clamoring to be a part of These Mountains, These Sidewalks, This Asphalt
to be absorbed in this Here -

this strange here that has never even been my home -
absorbed until the traffic lights blink red with my iron,
until a map of its streets is written in the lines of my hands,
and walking them at night restores my soul,

I want to lift up my face under the stars of only This Place
and let the rest fall away.

I want its arcing bridges to become my bones.
I ache to feel the rushing of its rivers
until its veins are my veins
and the rain speckles the windows with my donated tears.

I want to sleep and wake each night and day with my heart beside me -
whole and Home and never to be parted,

Two halves united,
held with care in the hands of Here,
Side by side as our breath rises and falls with the Sun of only This Place.

But perhaps a heart is not a heart,
And perhaps it will not be whole anywhere
Perhaps the paths of these feet will not cross again in the same place and time

And when I fly away again, as it seems I always must,
My feet must release this earth,
And my blood will retreat  - sullen and defeated and unsated.
It will leave my heart empty and still,
its pounding will slowly cease,

And as heavy as it feels -
It will not pull the plane back down into the gravity of only This Place.
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