homebody//homecoming

text version:

homebody//homecoming

i am back in the womb
it is like a warm and sticky summer’s night
when we had blood-red jam on our hands
and purple bruises on our knees from falling
from the broken swing in my back garden

i am back in the stomach
it churns me up like i am the september storm
when the bus broke down on the hill
and instead of school we built a den in the trees
and watched the rain from underneath

i am back in the lungs
they fill me with the first breath of winter
where the trees are naked against the navy sky
and we discovered an old army bunker
and scratched our names into the concrete

i am back in the heart
it beats me up like i am your dad's old truck
the one he crashed and kept on driving
it races me like we ran down to the river
and i would slow to let you win

i am back in the throat
it is like the first sour sip of cider
snuck from someone else’s glass
swallowed in haste underneath pub tables
whilst our parents sang auld lang syne

i am back in the mouth
it chews me up with crooked incisors
one lonely morning i lost my first tooth
pulled from my gums with dirty fingers
i spat a mouthful of blood onto my pillow

i am back in the nose
it twitches at the drifting scent of bacon
rising from the smokery down the road
i never ate meat but the smell reminds me
of all the times we cycled past in the heat

i am back in the eyes
they roll back into the skull of my house
where once my mother made fresh bread
and my father smoked his cigarettes in secret
but we saw him from the window every night

i am back in the brain
it rewires the map of my home village
renaming the streets so that i won't find you
but i always knew the way to your house
like the blue veins on the back of my hands

i am back in the skin
it knows every freckle and dimple and scar
and where all of my wrinkles and my moles are
it folds me up like warm fresh laundry
and puts me away for another summer’s day