Love is a home I have never been in,
I have peeked through the windows, sure,
Stared wistfully through the open door
But I have never crossed its threshold.

Love is a home I have never been in,
I have never lounged in the living room,
never cooked meals in its kitchen,
and never slept in its bed.

Love is a home I have never been in,
I have stood outside at night
warm lights inside inviting
but missing a soul to welcome me.

Love is a home I have never been in,
and likely never will.

© J. K. Fugitt 2021