Kissing You Feels Like Coming Home

A cycle of poems «You Taught My Hands How to Pray on Your Body»

I wandered through cities, through storms and through years,
Chasing horizons, suppressing my fears.
But every road curved back to your door -
Now I know what I was fighting for.

I wore loneliness like a coat in the rain,
Believing that love was just temporary pain.
Then you looked at me - no mask, no disguise -
And suddenly, darling, I recognized skies.

Kissing you feels like coming home,
Like firelight warm when I’m chilled to the bone.
No map, no name, no place I belong -
Just your lips on mine and the right kind of wrong.

We met in the chaos of a broken-down train,
You laughed through the static, unbothered by strain.
Your voice cut the noise like a song long forgot,
A melody playing the moment I lost.
You said, “I’ve been searching,” I whispered, “So have I” -
And time stood still beneath a bruised-colored sky.

I wore loneliness like a coat in the rain,
Believing that love was just temporary pain.
Then you looked at me - no mask, no disguise -
And suddenly, darling, I recognized skies.

Kissing you feels like coming home,
Like firelight warm when I’m chilled to the bone.
No map, no name, no place I belong -
Just your lips on mine and the right kind of wrong.

You cook with the windows wide open at dawn,
Sing off-key songs as the coffee moves on.
Your hair’s always messy, your heart’s always true -
You’re perfectly flawed, and that’s why I do.
Each morning I wake, I still pinch myself slow…
Did I dream you? No. You’re right here. You’re home.

I don’t need castles or gold in my hand -
Just your sleepy smile and the touch of your hand.
When the world turns cold and the stars drift apart,
You’re the compass, the hearth, the beat of my heart.

So let the seasons rage, let the highways roam -
Wherever you are is where I belong.
No journey too far, no exile too long…
Kissing you feels like coming home.