The Blood & The Bones

everyone thinks I’m a wanderer
maybe I was
but lost is a foreign
word to the gyspy
and to those who know what you can learn to feel when you stick around beyond lust
I may be a rambling woman
or is that only for men?
but if I sit still long enough
perhaps I could be found each time you enter and each time you let me in
and a little more each time
I leave my shoes by the door
and my busted heart on the key ring
I might be found inside the lines of your eyes
and the unexpected brutality
of your often tender loving
and maybe I am there each time you wear my name on your lips like the cross I wore
that burned its mark between my breasts when I could no longer claim innocence
I was never much of a runner but I ran just the same
I was never much of a root yet I find myself growing in this place
but I am not lost or necessarily found
and I no longer have to want to wander or wonder
maybe home is when I am at your side and at your mercy
but the cage door is still left open

the blood
& the bones

©️thebloodandthebones