Last night I dreamed you came to me in lovely form with a gentle spirit.
The nights I sleep best are the nights you appear in my dreams, nights you come to me in the sweet smell of roses beaming like you’ve won first place in a small town’s annual beauty pageant. And win it you would I know. I see you in the mist, the smoke of my slumber, and I see myself flare with excitement. I feel myself pivot in bed as I reach to draw you close. It reminds me of a scene from John Berryman’s Dream Songs.
I saw her in a dream, from my dream she woke,
pleasantness & courtesy & love
and all them stuff.
She had long hair as if long hair enough
to smother horrors. What with her in the smoke
he did he will not say.
Bedtime will be here soon, my dearest. And you know what I’m hoping, don’t you? I am hoping your figure will rouse me in the middle of the night and invite me to come away with you.