White yet so colourful like smile
A spark of reality, no ghoul.
Hands soft and warm like wool
Stroking palms making wings of a fairy
Its fluttering air reminds me of my breath.
Bathing in blood and stinking pus
Shiny as the sun
She touched me, caressed and lulled;
Although I never touched her
My eyes only knew
She was so close to me.
Unlike my tearful wife
She swarmed around Bed-47
No, she was not one
Omnipresent all in spectre white
They drummed my heart to beat.
(Written on Bed # 47)