There is a pillow between us.

That’s all
just a fluffy puff of cotton and foam
lying nonchalantly, lengthways,
pointing carelessly at the headboard
and forming a T with the other pillows,
a circumspect intersection of downy
hiding its shameful face under the covers.

You are no further away
than before
and yet I can not seem to reach you.

It lies motionless and silent
as do we,
but I can hear it’s muffled laughing.

A feather-light wedge.
The softest of simple machines
prying our sleepy bodies apart
with no effort,
save its cottony presence.

You roll over and I can see
the soft outline of your face.
You embrace the barrier
dividing us and pull it close.

I take a moment to reflect
on the silliness of pillow envy,
then I grab the pillow and cast it
from the bed.

You are startled, but none the wiser
to the melee that has ensued.
I slide to the center of the bed
in victory and gloat myself to sleep
with your arm around me.