Namamahay

It’s my second night away from home. I didn’t get to sleep much; I was namamahay.

An exact translation for the Filipino term namamahay escapes me; the term homesick doesn’t capture the traitorous way my body searches for familiar scents, for pillows shaped by our contours, for carlights playing on the ceiling, or for a bed that creaks when I turn to my right but not when I turn to my left.

Our home has carved itself on my body.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: