Pillow Case Poetry

 Propped up

Seat supported

On pillows

 Two hum drumming heaters

Pump rhythmically in my direction

Milk my waking mind said to me

Right to Listen

It’s cured the sugars burning

Pencils skootch their way across paper

Drawing out drawing my figure

For the first time in weeks my Lover has returned to a happy space in my heart.

Life seems to be blowing past me

Everything inside feels fidgety

Though here I sit, perfectly still

So statuesque that they applaud me

: ) ( :

 

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