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The Good Pillow

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Your scent ribboned around the pillow last night
and tied up my subconscious as I rolled over.
I reached for you the sheets getting in the way
tangled around each other and nothing blanketing me.
You take all of the covers sometimes so
for a moment I dreamed you were there
innocently concealed under the cozy mountain beside me.

I fought one-handed against the veil of blankets
a valiant attempt to win your attention
pathetically shivering, sleepily imagining how, after I found you
I would victoriously tug on your right shoulder
until you repositioned your back to the bed and wrapped your chiseled arms
around my cold upper body, pulling me close to you and murmuring, faintly
“You are so beautiful” while stroking my face.

A romantic reality awaiting
I couldn’t find you in the battle I waged with the bundle of unmoving blankets
sleepy arms helping--I sat up
more awake and determined to loosen you from the covers
and press my naked body against yours when I remembered ...
you’re out of town.

Covers don’t keep me as warm as you
and I can’t tease in the morning that you stole them from me …
I think I’ll turn up the heat
and sleep on to the good pillow tonight.
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