where else?

Peace briefly on the couch beneath
his yellowed ceiling 
now screening
the future. 

He saw a holiday up there -
nothing desired. 
Resting beside plump 
unbruised fruit
shoreline of lazy waves 
and something readable 
splayed asleep in chest hair.

Never happier.

Picked his wallet up and went  
to a place predictably 
thick with itch 
wind a stinging sideshore
tissue still scarring the ligament 
required for walks and
sometimes breath it felt like. 

On you go, there you are.   
Even the king bed 
seemed to desire 
another body. 
One of these strangers 
by the bain-marie
sun-taut and stinking of his same
muscular gel 
his tube of green repellent. 

None of them at ease either
upon seeing the rub -
that peace resides 
in lack of want 
lies untraveled 
in the afternoon 
complete on a frayed couch 
or abroad 
if you could be on that plane 
which isn't always elsewhere.