Floor Bed.

Lift the veil and there’s humanity’s heart,
Struggling on the surface, suffocated,
Drifting on a wave of compulsions.
Wanting to be led by having no strength,
The force of such a being too mild.
This culture, this race,
Encage me with silver bars of convention -
I couldn’t bear,
But when I lay on your floor watching the afternoon sun
Slant with precise perfection…
Everything was undone as it should be.
Your bearing eyes and freedom of our touch
Soft, natural as the falling dusty daylight.