traveling.

I left the city this weekend. I left the city and let the grass curl between my toes and the bugs I'm desperately allergic to crawl across my thighs and dipped my sun-starved skin into a pool that was too cold and full of leaves and felt like heaven.

My heart was quiet there but my mind was racing, sprinting, relentlessly asking:

"isn't this better?"

I came back to Brooklyn and looked around. I felt myself tethered by the memories we've made here. I felt the lives that have yet to be conceived stirring inside me.

I asked them:

"my loves, where will we go?"

I listened. 

I sat across from one of the loves of my life at an empty restaurant and drank wine. I remembered that heartstrings are lengthy and resilient. 

I came home to you and curled my body against yours, our hearts full and quiet

and realized home will travel with us, wherever we go.