The Robin’s egg blue

Of the pillow

I have in headlock

Is slightly too chipper

For the blue

Reflected upon my face


The oscillating fan

Gently whirring

In the background

Blowing

Smalls whooshes of air

That send shivers up my spine


While I sit there

Limbs wrapped

Around the blue pillow

In a cool embrace

Longing

For the warmth of his touch