"The Sofa in the Corner" Maya Quinn

My body is enveloped into the plush cushions of our living room couch.

Artificial scents have saturated the fibers to give the illusion that I’m in the tropics. An arm is ripped and the cotton flows out like the innards of a gutted fish. The pillows are no longer stiff with pride; they sink down with promises of comfort. Its underside is a shelter for a family of dust bunnies, dutifully guarding them from the roaring vacuum. The brown has faded from chocolate, to mud, and finally grey like stormy skies. It is an old man that has lost his vigor, one that has given up his battle long ago. What will happen to him now? A veteran will rest in comfort, and relive the days that once held righteous battle in distant memory. While still believing he could do it all over again.

Listen to Maya read a poem