The Bed | NaPoWriMo #13

A woman full of neutrality
Puts her backpack on her bed,
Put the tube journey, 
The woman who spoke loudly to another woman,
The chicken that was abandoned,
The pigeon that was invited, 
She put there that same invitation
She put there that after-rain-smell 
Tastes of hands wrapped around a mug of tea
On the bed the woman put
Things that happened in her mind.
Places she wanted to go,
‘Every great story has a beginning, middle and end, not necessarily in that order’
She put that there. 
3x + 3y = ? 
? = ?
The lips of a lover who refused to moisturise, 
The woman on Instagram who used to mesmerize, 
A crick in her left shoulder
The woman put her shoulder on the bed.
She was next to her backpack
She put on the bed the boiling of that kettle
So many days she had wanted to try that new tea! 
She placed there her longing and her determination
Her tiredness and wakefulness she placed there.
What a bed! 
It didn’t squeak or squirm under the load,
It bent slightly, then curved its 
spine back to neutrality.

after Edip Cansever’s ‘The Table’

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