I filled my glass at the tap

I filled my glass at the tap,

cold water splashing,

and for a moment,

this city felt like home,

every sip

a connection to summers spent,

a familiarity mingling with the humidity,

reminding me of kitchens

too hot to sleep in,

the air thick with laughter,

a taste I thought I’d lost.

This water carries

the weight of stories untold,

tapping into nostalgia,

reminding me of a distance

that stretches like the river,

longing for moments

where I belong,

where the taste of home lingers,

quietly, like a promise.