The Blonde Man

Here, in this tiny room, in this wide bed

I sleep, curled up in blankets

Huddled against the creeping cold

My body aches from shivering

My longs burn from the icy air

But hold, a gentle hand I feel

Brush my cheek and pulls the covers close

Strong arms envelope me and hold me tight

Against a soft, yet firm warm body

The same gentle hand strokes my hair

And I fall asleep

But my dreams are cold, and miserable

Tormented by a man I know yet don’t

A man I trust yet fear, a man who I loved

This man, in my dream, is ugly as sin

Greasy, blonde hair and a bulbous nose

Three chins and no neck

And arms that are too strong to escape

I awake, afraid to find him there

But find instead the gentle hand on my head

And a sweet voice cooing soothing words

I hug him closer to me and I fall asleep again

Will I have sweet dreams?