places i have not been in a while



knowing a body (not mine) solely by touch
the creaks and pains that haunt as we age
likely to be incurred from certain motions, positions, or stressors.

speaking confidently, without spell-checking myself internally
a red underline that urges me to be deleterious
in any company but yours.

cooking wordlessly, knives chopping and pans sizzling and burbliing
flavors and hands harmonious
passage round the kitchen like an innate dance.

hearing the key in the lock as the note of your arrival
the book folds closed and my palms open
welcome, home.


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