I call it home

If home is where the heart is,
then as a traveler,
my home is nomadic.

Diasporic static,
shock me with these memories.
I feel it all.

I take home with me.
I could never be alone.

As an immigrant,
I'm always home, I'm always home.

I hope for the world
to feel what I'm feeling.
Their love is a one in a million.

I know my heart is not a house,
but I call it home.

I call it home.

I call it home.

I call you home.

Slam poetry, Ginny and Georgia series