On This Pillow

Alas, here I lay
On this pillow,
With a scent
Uneventful, per se
My heart will go
to nostrils; vents

Which allows me sight
With my eyes sealed
To the dawn
Hoping that I might
Consciously steal
Images gone

Be still now my mind
Follies of love
Trips; entire
As they intertwine
What I think of,
Perspires

I'll try to adapt
This spark; this snap
That I know
Until she comes back
For another nap
On this pillow