I have been too long from home. I walk the grid of this city but I can't be here fully, not in my mind. Streets shouldn't move in straight lines. I'm determined not to be at home here.
There are no hills. There are no vantage points. I am always within something, when I'm here.
I moved away from home, but home continually moves away from me. One day I'll get off the plane and the place won't recognize me. I dread this. On the day that happens, I will no longer be an ex-patriot. I will be an orphan.
No comments:
Post a Comment