Have you ever seen a blue cow before? Home tells the story of where one's entrail is bound. Some say home is where you make it home. I disagree home is the place that bears beautiful memories whether childhood memories or others. For me is where I could smell the dirt early in the morning. Where when it rains the dust, and earth smell transcends me into euphory. I was a child; I ran without worries and savored the rain. Our pore absorbs each drip. My home is safe in my memory though my body travels. Home is home.
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