All Winter We Got Carried Away

"Pillow Talk"

Sometimes I curl up
to the pillows
on the other side of the bed
as if they were something warmer,
something firmer,
something tangible beyond
feathers and lace.

I find myself with the overwhelming
desire
to wrap my arms around a stranger
whose warmth radiates
and whose body seems strong.

For all I know, if I did, he’d
crumble into feathers;
he’d crumple under my weight.
He’d be nothing but pillows,
cotton and lace.

And cold,
on the other side.

December 15, 2008
So Come Over, Just Be Patient, and Don't Worry