Piilow Hug Poem by Richard Ford Bunuel Whale Carnegie Edison Simon Hitchcock Welles Christ Antunes Rodriguez Kubrick

Reality is mispoken
to a whisper,
my heart strings plucked
by angels sing cupid,

hearts aren't supposed to hurt
like bone broken into
painful tear strung down
across my facial express

from waters made of sadness sting,
its supposed to love proper
as if a kiss could sing,
it could be heard

around the world
to everyone who has misplaced
or found love to honor,
while by sleep

soon to dream to marry,
i hold my pillow
as if it were her...
A girl in love with me