Two homes are not better than one.
And this arrangement is not helping the blood clot.
I want my place, and this is not it.
I fly from one end of the universe to the other,
every other day
tis not as fun as it seems
for I do not belong to one end or the other
I belong somewhere in the middle
Dipped in the blackness of space,
Drenched in the waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
I do not belong anywhere but that.
Sometimes I think I belong in myself
That I am my place
And I need none else
But then I find the two ends of the universe have laid stake-
laid claim- in my mind and body as well.
So, I sit in the dizzyness of the shallow night
And pour over myself the waters of the compromise.
This is my place,
here- neck deep in fishes and salt
alone in the blue
no one to be a foreigner to.
–
See you in another day,
SA