I’m homesick for your body like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

I can’t wait to run my fingers over you

Like a key searching for a lock on a door

On a dark night

Only to bring the holder back to the warmth

 They’d been longing for.

The softness of my bed in my mother’s house

Does nothing to aid my rest

I don’t really have a pillow to call my own

But I do more than make do with your chest

I’m homesick for loud neighbors

Nonsense imitations

The good kind of sleepless nights

And the bad

The warmth of your arms around me

Is more than this old blanket will ever give

Homesickness is not a familiarity

I never longed this strongly for a place I live

But there’s something about your heartbeat

That I ache for like the creak of a particular floorboard

There’s something about when two souls meet

That makes home a new kind of word