On Marriage and Slumber


He jostles his hip finding
the sleep-ready sweet-spot;
she may always grimace,
but says not a word of retort.

He has three pillows
he fluffs and he scrunches;
she thinks he’s ridiculous.
He says he needs the support.

When he’s settled in
then she will stretch and bend
to slumber with her husband,
that pillow man.

Asleep, he somehow determines
that it just isn’t enough,
those three pillows he hordes—that worm…
and now hers is his fourth.

She knows he works hard;
won’t disturb his sleep,
but deep down she wishes
less pillows he’d keep.

The night before she wrote this
he did cross the dream-sleep line….
He shoved a pillow into her chest
not once, but more than twice.

She clutched it and flung it
to her side of the bed
where he couldn’t reach it,
not ever again.

© L. P. Penner, 2015


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