Cwtch (rhymes with 'butch') is a Welsh term to mean a safe storage space or a cupboard. It also signifies a meaningful embrace to offer safety to a loved one. Hugs are for everyone, cwtches are for a special few. I dedicate this poem to anyone who's had moments of touch starvation in the pandemic, and could use a virtual hug. My chest harbouring two heartbeats Head perching securely nested on sturdy shoulders Our right palms find harmony thumb unveiling fate lines Held hands hold hostage secrets spoken in silence You cruise through my curls unsnarling knots unravelling me I support the small of your back lest you disintegrate in the ecstasy of our union Eyes closed See through the soul's shine Treasure chests within An embrace Explosive electricity at first Then a sweet, settled melody sounds only we are privy to Tasting safety wholesomeness of home Hugs are delicacies Scents speak an exquisite language No words - yet Meaning abundant Sun-kissed smiles One feathery curve stroking, soothing sores Windows closed Freedom of wind flows within our sheltered fort Expansive as starry skies Our feet still- as do the Short and long hands no miles to traverse Here we find home We create a force field Alienating the world- yet Containing it All at once. Copyright © Roshni Ramanan
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