language is your home, I realized
after having wandered a bit too far
from a place I used to call home
these codes weaves in squiggly lines
are soaked with scents of someone’s skin,
freshness in a breeze, and warmth of a smile
I cried alone in a dark kitchen
as I stared into bones of this chicken
I realized how bony it has become
just like the language I used to know.
7.5.2020
Ralph with Coffee 