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Unpacked Boxes.
I keep a lot of things in boxes
unpacking is senseless for I’ve never stayed;
my heart calls no house a home.
None of my numerous notebooks are quite full
I start over with the seasons If I decide;
Sometimes I start over with lovers.
I find home in your eyes
You have slowly unpacked my scars and stories without gasping or putting items back in.
Sometimes when I kiss your skin,
I whisper my old poems to see how they resonate;
Turns out, you play symphonies when you exhale.
Please continue holding my heart close to your heart;
I can unpack and leave if I must,
but your fingerprints are everywhere and my notebook is still nearly empty;
It is almost winter and I’m not ready to move on.
Let’s fill up this notebook together.
Leave the boxes to be unpacked.
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