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.