The background of a moving subway, a metro, a BTS, or MRT, you laid your head on my lap and I wrapped my arm around your chest, your back against my lap, my arm hugging you close in a position only possible in a dream, impossible otherwise. You and I are two nomads, happier outside of home, yet home is when you lay your head in my lap, my hand stroking your hair, two as one moving in between cities.

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