Home Is Where
These bricks, this stone... this isn't my home.
The fire is here, and faces I know,
I live here, can't sleep here, it's here that I've grown,
But absent is heart: this isn't my home.
So locate the heart, and then I will rest.
Bones, arching fingers, which cradle, protect,
Are hiding and housing, and keep and collect.
My heart, so my home, can be found in your chest.
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