There is an ease as I stroll
Through settlements I visit
It feels like home
My curiosity is in what I consume
The way it tastes when it goes into my body
The satisfaction, the creativity, the art
My interest is in what it looks like
The shape the letters take
The colours, the flow, the attractiveness
My ease is in the sounds
The safety of being taken care of
The consistency, the compliance, the same
My conscience is what I know
The story of exchange and omission
The wink, the shrug, the smile
My conviction is what I feel
The regulated connection to sweat and blood that isn’t mine
The distance, the ease, the entitlement
My discomfort is not understanding
The language of another place
Where’s the bathroom, Thank-you, How much?
My ease is delusion
The guise of difference and exploration
It is home