Day 7 – My Bed

We were supposed to write a love poem addressed to an inanimate object, much to my relief, haha!

 

You’re not the kind of beautiful

That someone stares at for ages

No, you’re the kind of ravishing

That comes from jumping in and diving

Deep into your depths

As dream brings forth glorious dream

 

And even when there are no dreams

And instead there are nightmares

And there are demons–flying, circling overhead

Your embrace haloes me from them

Or, if they’re inside me, holds me in spite of them,

And you catch all the tears in between

 

And even when there is

Neither fantasy nor horror,

When all is still, and quiet, and hushed,

I sleep, vulnerable and peaceful in you

As you wrap forever in a moment,

Nestle its worth in peace in my heart

You carry me and my weight all through the night

And are with me even as the dawn breaks

 

No, you’re definitely not

The kind of beautiful that you see in magazines

Yours is the beauty of intimacy

Of listening to the nothings chattered

Of never questioning aspirations or

Laughing at logic

Of being trusted with the babblings of the heart

And excited whirs of the mind

I could spend hours with you,

And you would still be there,

Holding me just as closely, just as warm

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