And if you want to call my arms your home,
My gentle kisses your key,
My fingers caressing your hand your safety,
My hand stroking your hair your assurance.
Then, baby, use me as your shelter.
Use me the way you see fit.
Come back to me when you’re done with all the troubles this world has to offer.
Come back to me when you’re happy and content, so you can tell me all about it.
Come back to the human shelter that has become yours.
Live in the mountains,
Feel the cold against my skin,
Closer to the stars,
A couple of jumps,
And I’ll be at their rim.
It’s the sound of the TV on
Even though no one is watching
The repeat of a Turkish episode.
It’s the sound of your mother yelling
Again at someone who’s disobeying.
It’s the sound of dishes clattering
Upstairs in the kitchen,
As the maid is cleaning.
It’s the sound of your sister
Singing out of tune in the bathroom.
It’s the sound of arguments
About who started it
Between your younger siblings.
It’s the sound of speeding cars
Coming to a halt
Because of their wreckless driving.
It’s the sound of your father
Entering the house late at night,
Still talking business on the phone.
It’s the sound of familiarity or
In a noisy background.
It’s the sound of
What I proudly refer to as