Coming Home
Before I slept in your arms
I had never been home.
Before I made breakfast
With you I didn't know
How it should taste.
But now you're gone, and
I'm here, and I've been
Tasting you all day.
And I can't stop my face from smiling,
Thinking of you, wherever you are,
Thinking occasionally of me.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Coming Home
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