home

Home

is yellow, and light,

vast,

yet everyone gathers too close

sharing almost one warm breath.

and so, it all shrinks

to a few blankets,

and a window,

one cypress tree,

a few green tiles and a whistling kettle.

Home

is where we suffocate with laughter,

where we feel okay– that everything will be okay,

while the world breaks outside

the kettle is louder,

and the laughter a shield.