The Pillow

Do you have a bleeding heart of your own?
How can you feel my killing love?

The fragrance of night Jasmine makes me cry…
I can’t stand outside.


Dear Pillow, Every time I miss my beloved,
You offer me your edges to get wet
With tears of my helpless grief
and tolerates my kisses silently
And returns me the warmth of his chest.

I miss those cuddles and smile,
The mild musk fragrance of his soul
The taste of chocolate mousse
beneath the layers of his love
The hugs of all strengths,
the faith in his eyes,
The need in his wraps,
when he made me feel like a fragrant mist.

Hey Dear Pillow … are you listening?
I know all my mute dreams and memories
Are safely locked in your heart.
You even felt my secluded cries,
the silent sighs, and the most obstinate Roars.

O-My pillow, my dear pillow…
Thank you for being there for me
Thank you for listening my madness
Please don’t tell anyone these secrets
I told you in this sleepless night….

Originally published in 'The Writers Club' London,
on 17th July 2021.

Picture Credit:"Pink Pillow" - Joseph Lorusso 
(American, b. 1966), oil on panel

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