That keeps me away from painful blood love
It's the people that build the place and the place is empty without the building that the love people create
It's the people that are the place
Places are empty without the ones that fill in the memories with shared laughter, tears, and love.
And the love in the people that draws the prodigal back to dusty dirty, cramped highways
and the love that pains in loss of love in the blood bound people
and the fear of seeing the blood bound faces in goodbyes
wraps around this not being home
and preference is a choice in a big open space
but love is a coagulating agent in the get-out-of-Dodge highway calling
and my eyes may open to the space to improve that thick dreary heat blanket
that thick black out curtain hung up to keep out
And your black out curtains are me screening my calls
and your heat aversion is my blocking out social media
and your desire for mild weather is me sweating out the heat
and getting lost in wondering what is out there is forgetting that the place is nothing without the people
and the people put meaning into the place and all of the exploring is meaningless without the quality of life breathed into it among the acceptance of those that are in the inner circle
because what is an adventure worth if the wisdom and experience gained from it is never shared at all?
Just don't leave out the coagulating love.
that nuisance of a thing holding onto in the blooming of the bluebonnets and the thick humid heat blanket