A Dance or a Hearth

I describe the twists and flashes of color,
sweat and aspirations that peek at me
from your eyes and the wave of hair,
but I have no idea what makes you beat
and talk in the manner you do:
at your core, I do not understand you.

And this goes on and on for all whom I've met,
but one, darling you who makes sense
of so many senseless things,
I gravitate to you in these,
as my heart understands, though my mind does not:
I feel and know home, yet I cannot encompass it with definition.