A place is like a person. A person is like a place.
I have landed, and, I had this deep, deep longing to return even before landing. You unwrapped, removed, crumpled my outer layer and, inside, you found me like a gift. Years of waiting fell away, and there is no moment more important, than this, than that, because I found you like a gift too.
We open to each other – into alleys, beside waves, cornettis inside me, cypresses above me, goodbyes tomorrow and greetings today, breeze inside my pockets and in between strands of my hair, autumn aroma kissing my lips, stumbling on naked statues and water fountains, church bells chasing my ears, portraits popping in shadows, fruits of all colors, quietness of all shapes, lives unknown from faraway castles, loves known from the inner soul, cheesy adventures on cobblestones, light, airy feelings, figs discovered on narrow pavements and never seen here again.
I have landed on emotions, emotions that whisper that you are, by now, familiar. More and more, I want to be beside your comfort, or entirely be swallowed by your warmth, the warmth I know which doesn’t come from the faraway sun, but ignites from arms one inch apart. Your golden layers unfold uniquely – by day you lead me out into century-old spaces, and by night, our limbs turn tender, held captives by the romantic air, and in the dark, we anticipate tomorrow(s) and where they can lead us further. So we go farther into the foreign.
And as I do, I leave the familiar and I couldn’t go back again. I couldn’t cross 10,000 kilometers, or I couldn’t bear to. Because here, I’ve found my place, in a somewhere a horizon doesn’t exist.
“Will you let me stay?”
I have landed, 10,000 kilometers back, and I glide along the streets, steps unsure, like I’m resisting this very place I just landed on. Like I might have left myself, in pieces, in a place nowhere else comes close. Like I am in a limbo between 10,000 kilometers and until now, I still have no idea what they are made of. How do you land in a place?
(A place is like a person. A person is like a place.)
How to gather the pieces from here, when my heart is there?