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.
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