sometimes...when it has been oneofthosedays... i come home and launch myself onto my bed, scattering rumpled coverlets and sheets and all of the whydoesanyoneneedthismanypillows pillows. and i press my nose down deep into the impression your head made last night, when your arm was flung up carelessly above your bed, fingers just brushing the frosted panes of window glass, notsnoring softly. because you dont snore. mmmhmmm... and i can just barely still smell that mix of soap and deodarant and shampoo that is you. and i wish you were here. and for just a second? you are,,,
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