This place
I’ve memorized its lines
The reflection of branches on the wooden floorboards
The gray between the white kitchen tiles
I’ve memorized the way it smells
Sand in the outdoor shower
Sweet smoke on the dock
Hummingbird nectar, hanging from the porchlight
I’ve memorized the way it looks
Old brick and whitewashed churches,
With broken stained glass
Tobacco fields under gray skies
The beach at midnight.
I can feel it
It feels like the car, with the windows open,
It feels like sand in your sheets
It feels like growing up
And it feels like staying the same.
Like static in my veins
On my back in the grass
The air is so thick at dusk,
And I’m home.