Homesick
The Sun is rising over Glasgow,
another bright, cold day,
and I wake up to a full feeling
and an empty side of the bed.
-
I thought that missing you
would be suffering,
a nauseating emptiness,
some growling starvation of the soul.
-
But it is a fullness,
the having of a nothingness
which reminds you of the everything
that fills from far away that purring void.
-
I think it is because you have loved me
into my dreams,
cheering from a strangely stagnant distance
so it echoes in that space we both share.
-
It is not a desperation,
like a fear that you will return to
a different lock, or a stranger
wearing your slippers. No.
-
Missing you is a homesickness,
a bittersweet knowing
that there is a place to return,
with a love that never leaves.














