Our love needs now
a king sized bed
to lay down,
to take a break
when the sun is down and the night is out,
to rest its tired limbs
and enjoy the peace
of less passionate days
Years before, when our love was young,
and underdeveloped,
a teenage body, frail, gaining strength by day,
or by night,
all it needed was a dingy sofa
with a broken leg
almost crushing under its own weight
of intense, dense feelings,
supported from underneath
by a badly dented tennis balls can
which had been
the best declaration of love
we had made
to each other
Our mature relation needs comfort now,
to feel good,
to get vigor,
it detests the freezing cold
which steals the heat from our fingers
when we throw snow balls at each other
and we’re not laughing anymore
and we’re not lying in the cold white powder anymore
to leave angels marks
in the angels territory
We are comfortably wrapped
in the deep, and fuzzy, and warm folds
of our poor, irrelevant, meaningless
television impregnated evenings
We are an accomplished couple
