Dear Lavender pillow across the room,

Apparently if I were to have the blasted presence and transcendental tripe to stand in your corner of the room, things would look different. But equally, if you were to be where I am in the room, on the left side of the bed, you would also have your mind blown by the perspective change. You’d look to the right and find peace in the wavelengths you share with the matching lavender pillow next to you. A humming would exist between you two that allows silence to breathe.

Lavender pillow you are actually just a pillow in a lavender pillow case. Your outsides were picked out by my grandma. My grandma keeps a lot to herself, and the little she does share I hear others judge her for, get bored of her for, or ignore. But I love her quiet and consistent fancies, her love of flowers and birds, her appreciation for organisation and china, her return to a colour scheme with lavender in it. I think my silent but sturdy crushes on lines, my efforts to keep them straight, my love for the places where things stand- these silences hear my grandma’s silent love affairs. So they hum together. In this way my grandma’s precious cares drum with an alive silence in my soul.

Grandma made this whole room. She probably stood in all four corners of it at one point during its construction. Now one of her lavender pillows holds my heavy head after a day’s trying, and the other mans my self-help hovel in the opposite corner of the room. My grandma’s precious, pedantic cares drum with an alive silence in my soul.

My room set-up means that the lavender pillows face each other — almost exactly – like they have just turned and drawn — but to crease up in gurgly laughter at the game they are playing. I love where they sit, how they sit, what they cause for those pillows and drawers around them.

Lavender pillow across the room, thank you for being where you are.