Now this is home. They were so vain. I’m an only. I drew you pictures of my pain. I learned to put on airs. Let it touch you everywhere. Boat of my father. Today I wake up, tell myself this is me. Put your hands in the water. Bivouac. Father. I dug my fingers in the earth. Cut from my mother. They were so pretty. But the property’s on loan. I needed them to breathe. I’m picking up the phone. So much for letting go. I’m lonely.