04 January 2015

A Couch

A couch
A casual bottle of red wine

This back is faithful and strong
It can and does dance along
To many poems and many songs

Yet, intoxication heightens after some dance
And after flights there is, at times, a collapse
And in that collapse chaos battles itself
And when the battle dies, this exhausted body falls
And with its fall morsels ache
Reminding me I'm also made of mud and flesh
And all that flesh wants is a couch
With wine to sooth
With warmth as balm
With words streaming poetry
With nurturing arms
With silence as mercy
With a couch that is home
With you as beauty
An embodiment of Love
A gift of hope.

Amal - January 2015

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