Blue Couch

I am the blue couch by the window.

Loved, unloved, used, unused; baked in the morning sun.

Nowhere I’d rather be

Next to the wall, standing on the 4th floor

I dream of holding a restless sole

I worry about you, leaving

I’m comfy, big and blue.

Sirens, squeaky neighbour’s upstairs and Hollywood Helicopters keep me awake at night

Providing comfort, safety and security through all, is the best

I hate it when I transfer germs

The deepest guilt.

My favourite times are the late mornings

Allowing me to fulfill my purpose

Remembered as that friendly, sun-drenched companion by the window.


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