Teesha Matarage Poet Free verse

Where Longing Calls Home

There is a particular kind of hunger 
That learns to live without being fed.
And perhaps the cruelest mercy:
Even the compass bends towards the star it cannot touch,
And mine has never learned another north.

So I let the longing stay,
Knowing I was never meant to find my way out 
From wandering beneath the same unreachable sky,
For I feared 
That home, once found would wrench the way to you.

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