I swallow tears so they don’t leak through the phone

& I agree quietly when you say to me,

“You know I’ve always been kind of a gypsy.” 

The cries I stifle meet the voice I haven’t let speak,

where they wade in the “deep down,” 

where I’ve always known.

I feel lost but can retrace steps.

I kept a lantern lit in my heart for you. 

I felt a pull to the flame 

whenever I’d see you again.

A story ignited in your eyes;

was it yours or was it mine?  

We created chemistry out of chaos. 

You’d be calling me everyday 

& I answered like I always have.

It felt like you were coming back to me. 

& maybe a gypsy can have a home,

temporarily.

          

           .Laura Curren.