I sleep each night with a pillow of words propped in place. Can’t say they’re nicely made or are fluffy enough but they’re my kind of perfect. Them pillows never fail to be ready for my back, my shoulders, my head, my brain, my full length and weight.
I’m tucked in, this way, always.
And oh, my notepad also happens to collect and absorb eye juice should they spill out at night. Words, they’re tears.