Tonight I lie to sleep in my parents’ house
having defeated the attempts of the sofa bed
to prevent me from doing this horizontally.
Head bolt upright? I don’t think so! Neither
my feet to the floor. In increasingly frenzied moves
our engagement played out, a midnight wrestling bout,
featuring twisted limbs, contorted faces,
until at last, it finally yielded its secrets.

Just wrestling in a poem before midnight…
(05.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Krista Mangulsone on Unsplash