A Comfy Floor with Comfy Toppings【POETRY】

A Comfy Floor with Comfy Toppings

We’re here,

Slouched on the floor,

Breaking every social rule,

Not speaking because we’re smiling

At the light on my computer, or

The paper petrichor of his unfinished flipbook, or

Each resonant crunch of her dusty Doritos, or

Maybe none of that.

 

We’re here,

Relaxed on the floor,

Breaking every social rule,

No activities,

No dinners,

No words in the air,

None of that.

 

We’re here,

Snuggled on the floor,

Breaking every social rule and then some,

Not whispering because we’re all we need,

Our heads pay no heed to any bubble,

Bonking gently on each other;

We’re all our personal space.

Our limbs pretzel upon whatever;

Arms and legs and bodies embraced.

Maybe none of that

Should be so scary.