I am afraid of home

not just my home

but the very idea of a home

maybe having a home

having that level of

Quiet

 

I am afraid of having a home

where the hum comes inside

the self

preserved like jam

all sweet and ready for the long winter

waiting for u se 

on the wooden shelf

graying with dusty time and always

safe behind glass

quietly full

of flavor and

waiting to be tasted

waiting to cover your bread

with

some shiny

like candy

on the arm

 

I am afraid of having a home

where I eat jam from the jar

​

where my drawers are always full

of some one else’s spoons