_____by Butterpecan
I whisper to the pillows,
but they do not hear the love I speak of.
Our house, our bed, our cocoon of love and life,
but you are not here to share it with.
I talk to the pillows,
try to make them understand.
The warmth, the softness, the smell of you-they cannot
replace, only torment and tease me with dreams of you.
I scream at the pillows,
and wait impatiently for your return!
They answer silently and give what comfort they can.
