The Houskeeper: Pillows & Pigeon Shit

Love is a featherless pillow
It falls gently from the sky
Hits us hard when we’re asleep
But never wakes us

We’re lost in dreams
We travel the world
Ancient ruins and abandoned temples
We explore
Scavenge through the forests deep
Poke through the craters of distant caves
Shelves and drawers
Closets and some cupboards
We live a million years to share the stories

A gentle gaze from eyes so perfect
Bleach your soul with a feeling so divine
A humbling rumble in your guts
A sense of belonging that folds you into two
A sense of fitting
A sense of letting go
All packaged in a cushion cover

And every night as we wander in our dreams
We steal a feather from a bird
And bring it back with us as proof
Of our emotions so surreal

As time goes by the pillow grows
It’s stained from our adventures
It falls so blandly from the sky
Just like a drop of pigeon shit
It strikes us hard
Its blows are stronger by the hour

We begin to ache
We begin to hurt
We carry on
Until the feathers packed so hard
Once a symbol of our own freedom
Become the instruments
Of our own demise
And so in truth I finally see
I’m not desired anymore
A house to keep I cannot keep
My heart’s no longer welcome

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