Home.
Home is not a place.
It's the sound of your voice.
It's the roughness of your fingertips.
Home is not a place.
It's the peace that lies within shared silence.
It's the comfort in meaningless conversation.
Home is not a place.
It's your whispers in the dark.
It's your warmth when it's cold.
Home is not a place.
It's the steadiness of your breath.
It's the sound of your heartbeat.
Home is not a place.
It's looking into your squinty blue eyes every morning.
It's your presence.
Home is not a place.
Home is wherever you are.
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