home is a ghost from a forgotten life

soaked brick pathways are undulating shades of burnt orange under dappled shadows of this midnight sky i can’t tell the dew on the handrails from perspiration on my coffee, a frigid, sugary drink, and yet it brings a sense of peace to windy nights like these you wear a twinkle in your eye, a smile soaked in moonlight, and when i look up to the sky and close my eyes under the shine of streetlights, i think i can almost see us on the other side of the ocean, drinking tea under the firefly night sky i can smell the ever-lingering scent of gasoline, feel the warmth of sun-baked balcony; i think of plastic chairs on worn porcelain patios, and secrets spilled under starlight, of a place where home means both inside and outside, and it is so close yet so far out of reach it is a siren song that's left me eternally hypnotized, i can hear it always, and memories and dreams blend together, somewhere between the desperate and the divine home is a ghost from a forgotten life; traditions fall from our hands like the sands of time the air is different outside of American haze, a drug so strong i forget how to pronounce my own name i dream of a closeness not so fleeting, of a place where bonds are deep-rooted and lasting

| Kanwal Ahmad