Slumber Is A Compliment

What is a safe space

His snores echo.

The house is white,

A cocaine level clean.

We used the Spa room in the first session.

I have always hated spa rooms.

Awkward lighting

Hidden switches.

I feel uncomfortable,

You can’t snore

Like you can at home.

With all the details of a life

Lived into a space.

Our guard naturally sets itself

Down with the shoes by the door.

I remember how many

Homes I have be Invited into

In the last 10 years.

The physical expression of

Mental, emotional

Even physical condition.

As you rest,

I sink into play,

A skin pianist.

The echos of music in its own environment

Gives insight to the melody.

A crowded corner means one thing,

Directs my hands.

An empty room dictates a

Different kind of riff.

It tells me what you like,

What your soul asks for.

Many plants and trinkets

Tells me to notice every little thing.

Wild expensive art

Asks for big strokes

And outrageous pressure.

I don’t get this in a spa room.

I can’t sense fully who I am working with.

If you have designer pillow cases,

Or if there are legos thrown about the floor

For me to dance around without making noise.

I am blessed to see it all.

Thank you for letting me in,

I hope it heals us both.