Come
To your home
No one knows
Except you
Where its door is
What its walls look like
Its windows
Its roof
If there is a terrace or not
And from which material was built
Come
Whenever you feel
Like coming home
When you get tired of
Wandering
People
Noise
Whenever you crave
Smile of the fire on your body
Steamed up mirror on lips
Mute talk of fingers
Blue sky in the night
Luna in your lap
Come
When you remember
That your home is empy
Without you
Come
And go again
Whenever you desire
Wandering
People
Noise
Your home is your home
Doesn’t long for
Wandering
People
Noise
But for the smoke
On its chimney
That you bring.
More at https://www.modernliterature.org/2019/02/01/poems-danijela-trajkovic/.
