The Road Home

I wanna be touched 
I wanna be brushed

soft like a gentle breeze,

firmly

like this is the last of me

you'll ever see

Whisper in my ear 
pull my hair

gently, honey,

We didn't come 
this far to

hurry up

let's take our time
that will be enough 

All the words I say

nightly

to a man i've never known
will never know

i dunno
that’s how it seems

when in December sun's gleam 
i cannot help but dream
of his touch

a soft and firm brush

across the ragged, muddied road 
that i call

home. 

Brinn W.