The young lady full of fulfillment comes home.
She puts her heavy bag on the bed.
She puts her jacket on the bed.
She puts her ear pods and smartphone on the bed.

She puts her father’s handsome smile,
she puts the smell of cigarettes from her aunt’s house,
she puts the noise of the taxi hooters,
she puts the left over taste of coffee
and the heat that burnt her skin.
She puts all of it on her bed.

On her bed she puts the science test she is going to write next week,
she puts the emails she has to check,
she puts her boyfriend’s call,
she puts her teacher’s words,
“You didn’t do well with your last test students, show up for this one.”

The bed is almost covered up
but there is space left.
So she puts the longing to find true love and lastly her wish for new sneakers.

The bed is covered with all these things but it still keeps it’s shape and stance.
It takes it all with softness and ease,
like a therapist trained to understand.
She trusts the bed.
She loves her bed.
The warm bed of affection.