Pillow of goose
down & gentle plumy feather,
Scented with
lavender & soft Scottish heather,
Memories locked,
beneath linen & every plume,
Upon beds, within
the most intimate of rooms.
The place where
heads laid, within agonies of birth,
Thrashing at the
entry, of every life upon this earth,
Tossed in torrid
passions & creased within all loves,
Laundered with care,
& as soft as young white doves.
Stained with crimson
lipstick & sweat of fevered brows,
Perfumed & tossed
into corners, on lover´s tiffs & rows,
Greyly crumpled by
the ill & the dying upon death´s bed,
Lamentations of humble
pillow, where all life lays its head.
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