shoutz 7

 another one from "shoutz."

the floor’s still creaking.

singing what i hope is

your arrival. homecoming,

fanfare and the appropriate

heralding of a trumpet,

of a procession, half-starved

but grateful. half-gone but

returned. wholly transformed.




i can only hope

it’s you. what’s been so long,

still feels like fresh blood

down the scratched spot,

broken free.

each centimeter swallowed

by its path, each crack

of the living room. you’re

out there, i’ve never been

more sure.




let the groans of this

quiet house

lead you back
home.