Pillow Talk—poem

by Samuel De Lemos

I won’t be totally understood,
that’s quite all right,
when you’re quirky,
different, and smart,
dot, dot, dot.
There are enough u-turns
in life and directional arrows,
interspersed with
Ted-Talks and Pod-casts to make my
eyes nearly shut:
The whisper of the night breeze.
The soft murmur of a ceiling fan.
The distant bellow of a night train;
communicate subtlety, musically.
Like pillow talk—
quiet musings that stirs the subconscious
into imaginative meanderings or
delicate canopies that give much needed shade
from the tyranny of being in bed awake.

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