But we rode and we rode and found pockets of space shaped like us to hide in.
I found myself again when my palms reached out for a tree, a need I sometimes feel. To copy its wholeness and stability - we exchanged a few thoughts before it sent me on my way, for there was more for us to seek.
And when we could ride no more, we crept in darkness, hushed and safely hidden, dimmed light called us in. A room made for gentle voices, no others could get in. A cocoon of white softness and heavy eyes but a sigh of peace each, sailed across promising pillows. A hot shower shifted time and space and the swelling of hearts under its deep healing, almost prompted a tear.
We'd found our spot, our nook to exist and dissappear in. And in breaking light after dreams of home, I'd realised that it's not somewhere out there, up there or down there but in us. Just us.