I turn back for a moment and realize that all of the houses have changed shape and all of the occupants are unknown.
There is no door in which I can knock,
not one belongs to me.
I learn to beg and do favors for those with keys because I am an adoptee and there is no key to the house of our belonging.
They changed my name and address with the swoop of a pen,
I didn’t know if this would happen over and over again.
After all, from an incubator to a foster home to you,
seemed like a cycle that would never be through.
I wish I could have loved, but not having been touched left an unknown pocket in my heart that hasn’t budged,
except for the hope that one day they’ll arrive to hold me close with no secrets to hide,
they will caress me with light,
and allow me to sleep,
in their arms I will rest,
in their familiarity I will weep.