empty beds and wrinkled sheets
are all i remember from that week
a pillow to support me
not much, only barely
and a blanket to keep me warm

with both arms outstretched
i cannot reach the edges
if i roll side to side
i'll never fall to unforgiving ground
i'll only ever be drifting over cotton sheets

the sun shines through linen curtains
casting shadows across a soft gentle face
i impulsively turn towards the light
which a smile tugging at the corner of my silent lips
i spend the day happy, laying in my empty bed