I keep a piece of stone in my head,
just behind my eyes. It is magnetic
and points me home.
If you ask me “where is home?”
I will say “ask the stone.”
I am not a map.
Sometimes I come to a body of water.
I build a boat. Is this not why
anyone builds boats?
The boat sinks. I build another.
I drink the water and die of thirst.
I build another.
If you say to me “tell me your story.”
I will tell you the story of the stone.
I am not an author.
If you say to me “I am your home.”
I will say nothing, but start