The Moment I received The Joy I deserved

It takes me twenty steps to reach my childhood 
door from the boundless roads that lead everywhere.

This is the closest I’ve been to my family in six years. 
I can barely hold the tears, but I know my parents are here 

to catch them when they fall. We squeeze the distance between 
our heartbeats with a tight hug. Suddenly, I can embrace the world 

with the length of my arms. My Dad pushes my suitcase into the other 
room - a reminder that he doesn’t want to see. I have fifteen days before

going back to another house, where the smell of freshly baked
bread rarely fills the table in the morning and the butter 

never melts the same. The tropical breeze blowing through the door 
makes me realize how much I missed walking around barefoot 

on the cold tile.  My Mom fills up the kettle with my childhood dreams, 
and she patiently waits until it’s ready.  Love is always brewed 

in her kitchen. She pours me a cup of Brazilian coffee and now,
now I am home.