The rain taps at the windows,
like hundreds of dead men's fingers.
The wind wraps around the house,
hugging the storm into the bed,
while thunder rolls through the walls.
I awake, flip from left to right,
then plod to the guest room,
where I slept before,
and visit my own home for a while.
Cool sheets, different tones,
a snoring cat reminds me what is love.
I pull the blanket to my face,
and once again, I am gone.
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