By Mira Submitted by Mirabeau Date: 2001 Jul 25 Comment on this Work [[2001.07.25.00.50.18338]] |
Goose feather pillows, covered not in satin, but cotton many times washed, and soft to the touch. I see your head denting one, and one right next to it, waiting for me. Only my head is more inclined to rest against your chest, one ear cocked for the soft sound of your heart the way it speaks to me long after you have found rest. Hearts don't speak names, not in real life. But yours makes a sweet low sound when your arms have pulled me tight and your nose twitches at the scent of my hair. I want to burrow safe and so secure in that spot near your shoulder. You or goose feather pillows. Just a mortal here. You decide. I'll just curl up in your arms until you've made up your mind. |