Home
I still smell you
driving home,
all alone,
and I smile,
'cause you're still with me--
apart, yet, a part of me
in my shirt, my skin,
my hair--
you're not really there,
yet I feel you
stroking my hand,
my back,
my face as I
grab the clutch
at the light
in a blush.
I can taste you
in the breeze
on the road
in the dark,
and I know
that you're with me
you're so far away,
but I hear your
heartbeat goodnight
pulling up to the house.
I turn the key.
I still see you
in my bed,
through the night,
in my dreams,
and I smile,
'cause you're at home
with me.
(Written by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez 4/9/98, rev. 7/21/10)
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OK, y'all have been kind enough to "hear me out"& n stuff, so let me know whatcha think, if I've rattled yer cage, voiced a shared thought or concern, or if you're gonna attain Enlightenment upon reading these DEEP THOUGHTS, or if ya think I'm just plumb WACKO--but please be decent in your expression of your sentiments, there's no need to sling mud, unless we're in POTTERY CLASS or at the BEACH! Thanks for reading n stuff...Laters!