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Mar 292015
 

by Billy Harfosh

 

I feel at home in this place 

Musty smell of bleach and booze

No jealousy 

No judgment

 

I feel at home in this place

Losing my pretentiousness

Inhibitions gone 

Guiding across oceans

Using only

Intuition and a compass

 

I feel at home in this place

Almost trusted

Almost part of a clan

Almost alive 

We drink and waste away hours

 

I remember Paris nights and Polish days

Those that didn’t seem so wasteful

Days o days

Merrily another measurement 

That dictates time 

 

I feel at home in this place 

I don’t feel regret nor spiteful 

Only fuzzy

Fuzzy

Like the moment you fall in love

 

I feel at home in this place

Without apology I’m here

You’re here

 

and together

we fly into heavens

to waste away 

lonely days