Like home

If you come visit me tonight,
I'll borrow a hundred words
to tell you a few things as follows:

I love you like writing poems which
are not always good or make much sense,
but define who I am and I'm quite a thing
you can see through.

I love you like laughing,
which often makes my belly ache,
but happens to produce the
memories I want to keep.

I love you like the night sky,
which reminds me I'm the smallest thing,
I'm dust, but I'm contained in all
living creatures and we are one.

I love you like sunflowers.
I love you like rain.
I love you like home.