By Laurel Ahlfeld
Date: 14 June 2000
Only My Pillow
Only my pillow knows of the tears of silver that carress her surface on
these solitary nights
Only she apprehends the despondency that penetrates my heart with memories
of treasured times and forgotten happiness
If she could behold my dreams, she would have observed your tender face and
slender build night after night
Only my pillow grasps how I still long for the precious love and beautiful
phrase "I love you"
Only she can fathom the elation it conveyed to me at a time when it was
incontestably the truth
Only she comprehends the way I wrote terms of endearment and amazement long
into the early moments of light
Only she understands I never felt they weren't quite good enough for you;
that I never felt I was
If only she could reveal how I love you still...would it make you return
to me?
I seem to stumble over jagged thoughts and fumble over slippery words when
the moment befalls us
But she has witnesses my admiration to my deterioration and knows the
sentiments I want you to know too
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