An effort at setting description using an experience familiar to most. I ventured a double entendre as well.

Unmade bed

This bedroom is so hot and still, unrelenting.

Sleep won't come.

The pillow won’t return my embrace, the covers have lost the scent of you.

There's no comfort in this tangled mess I've made.

Are you well my love?

Are you dreaming in this, my lonely hour?

Self pity is my solace for your absence.


15 May, 2016

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There's more where that came from!