A safe home.
A place you might cry loudly, find heart- shaped hair strands on shower walls, leave crumbs of banana bread on the living room sofa and sing along with the tiny men living in the radio.

Flying is quite like Daddy's cheerry sing song of "I'm home! " and we all come flying like we hadn't just seen him that morning.

Some people weep with their eyes, my body sways. As I fall gracefully, I'm laughing with my cousins on freshly washed sheets. I fly, free like a bird, expressive as the wind. Though you watch me, I don't see you. I close my eyes and zoom across the room. I go home.