I like pillows, I do
Piled on my bed in the day, pretty, colour-coordinated, arranged carefully
A little landscape of colour and form, making my bed feel welcoming and ordered and put together
But at night, where do they go?
Carefully removed from my bed, carefully arranged beside my bed, for
If I leave them on my bed while I sleep I will
Bump them and
Toss them and
Kick them and
Throw them
In wakefulness, in dreams, in suffocation
My pillows substitute for what I lack
But that lack is really too great for substitution
And I know it
And my pillows know it
So their feelings are not hurt
When I push them away
YOU ARE READING
bedtime habits
RandomThis was meant to be a single poem. But there seems to be more coming.
