Brandon N.

Yearning for company,

Waiting for her to return.

The ceiling high,

Repetitive circles across its surface

Dust gathered on the windowsill

The closet door ajar

Cold and lonely,

Shivering in the dark.

Suddenly light creeps through

The bedroom enveloped in its warmth

She walks in,

Warmth enveloping once cold limbs

An inanimate toy,

Now filled with life.