The Wolfwalker

by t.o. crow

I met a man one night.

He walked into my dream.

I watched him through closed eyes.

My mind meandering.

There was beauty there -

and sinew to this art

towering in my head -

like some giant tree formed into man

by one bold lightening POP!

I wondered at the vision standing there -

naked in my dream.

My eyes sought his but, failing that,

found strong square shoulders

and a well-muscled back.

His long brown hair

in a ponytail bound

touched a farmer's tanned neck.

He had long, strong arms

and hands accustomed to work

(with fingers designed for

carrying out the business

of baiting hooks, holding hammers

and saws -

and pleasuring).

My eyes paused on his hands.

For the briefest instant,

they opened to release balloons of gratified moans

which floated into the air and burst

into "Ohhhh, BABY!" sighs and

rocking the quiet like the wake of a baby Lear jet.

One REM blink and the image was gone.

My eyes moved on to peruse

long legs with well-shaped feet.

(And his full manliness.)

Still, there was something amiss.

Perhaps he needed a kiss?

In dream paralysis, I extended my arms

in open invitation.

He looked at me in mild surprise:

"Could you please explain the meaning of this?"

He asked as he sat by my side.

"Why yes," I sweetly replied.

"Your heart has a hole where love should go.

I can see it in your eyes."

He held me close and together we rocked.

Locked as two lovers should be.

Then I heard his voice whisper

as a tear hit my shoulder:

"My Dear, I am only a dream."

TOC