Family

I sit here on her purple bedspread wrapped up in a pink, fuzzy blanket.
We walked in the door and a glass of wine was poured.
They met me at the airport with anxious, waiting faces.
They were patient while I got my bag at baggage claim.
We drove admiring the city lights,
To their home that feels like my home.
We all look alike;
Bright eyes, high cheek bones, freckles.
In her room with a poster on the wall reading: I Love Ben
I sit knowing we will forever be connected.
I do not know them yet they are family.
Sitting here, wrapped up in a pink, fuzzy blanket,
This is not my life and I am in it.