(memphis/nashville/knoxville)

I’ve realized I fall in love with places

instead of people:

I’ve loved a river—

muddy, polluted, deep,

who always led me back to myself

let me pound along her banks, further each time,

as easily as she let me sit quietly, and without judgment

on the days I brought my notebook

but my running shoes sent their regrets

I loved a pyramid, odd + out of place

my lighthouse

my beacon

my signal

that I was Home

I fell in love with a porch swing

in the season of fireflies,

where moonlit laughter punctuated days that would otherwise run together—

a comma

or semi-colon

or ellipsis

in a summer serenade stuck on repeat

I had an affair with a back porch many years before,

brief, and fleeting

Who offered sanctuary from chaos,

peace amidst pain,

Unconditionally—

Knowing full well I wouldn’t stay

I fell in love with an old couch

in an old office

in an old, old church

that, I hope, wasn’t jealous

when I later loved an old bowling alley, in a younger church

that taught me more about Faith than I knew I needed to learn

and never cared that I couldn’t bowl.

I loved a tiny apartment, that was mine, all mine

that saved my life

or, at least, my sanity

But not as much (admittedly)

As the last time I loved a tiny apartment, in a lifetime before                                                    

for the same reasons I loved a glass cutting board, a cup and saucer, and a stupid sponge

none of which were “mine,” but “ours”
the year a pronoun shifted,

the year the place I loved the most 
was a nook

on a neck

on a man

who could make any place

feel like a place I could love

Still, my heart yearns for warmth,

Not of a touch,

but of the humidity, the consuming heat

of Summertime in the South

that wraps you like a blanket

hugs you

holds you

as if it will never let go

And my heart aches for a voice,

a collective voice that drops it’s g’s

and drawls one syllable into many

making every thing sound like song.

My heart settles for reminders

in melodies, corn grits and greens

And the hope for a reunion, the hope of a chance

to fall back in love with the place

that just happens to be the love of my life.