there’s a fella, sleeps alone
reasons known to self and another
the wick of his wishes is burning low
getting down to the orange tipped embers
(could that be the hottest part?)

looking for that bright smile, dark eyes
that Christmas spirit all the year
he wanders around the king size bed
runs from the galloping ghosts of midnight

awakes at three for his second pee
with a smile on his face
’cause he’s dreamt an angel’s soul
and his spirit arms, they hold it close
bodies entwined, sweet soothing
that freckled face, those Bambi eyes

more tightly he grasps, bestowing a kiss
but his mouth is of cotton
or is it her lips?

it’s that big body pillow
from the head of his bed
with its teddy bear stuffing
he’s holding, instead.