When you go places, do you bring and keep your many selves everywhere? Or do you peel your parts and leave pieces along the paths just like Hansel and Gretel?

One day you are here.

A day after that, you are back in the arms of your parents and dogs and grapes. I’m not sure if you left anything.

Maybe your stares that feed me sincerity and deep deep love, your kisses and caresses that know the most gentle touch, your voice that sometimes I like sometimes I don’t like, your stare I drown in your eyes, your hands that I hope to hold on to not on the days you will head to the airport, your hugs that keep me safe and warm many many times over and over again, your sexy soul, your sexy shirtless body with hair so much hair I touched when I removed sand on your body, your face that happy face that someday my hands would like to follow the contours part by part, your light that leads me in the dark.

You left so many selves, so many parts. I eat them on my way home.

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