Your Pillow

me and your pillow,
we conspired early this morning,
to rouse you
from your muffin-warm slumber,
your legs all tangled in sheets,
and your head laying still,
with your thoughts on idle;

and while I confessed
that my motive was pure:
just so I could hear your voice;
you may be forced
to strangle such a confession
out of the pillow,
since being inanimate,
he's just not talking.



February 22, 2009, for Kimberly.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.