You do not write me much

You wished me good morning
sending me an email with pictures
of butterflies flitting over flowers,
kissing their mates in the air.

You wished me good night
by the evening email,
a picture of your lonely bed,
a lamp on the bedside table
with an empty blue and yellow vase.

You do not write me much.
Not many words of passion,
Not many words of love--
Simply I wait for you, my love.

I see your photos
when I go to bed at night.
Waking up in the morning,
I find my pillow in my arms.