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Cradle of Dreams
by Kay Caputi
How I envy the pillow you slept upon last night
with your head against it soaking up
the moist warmth of breath in repose.
Oh, that I could be your pillow,
be chafed by the stubble of midnight shadows,
caressed with the softness of lips upon me,
passion filled. If you stirred in sleep,
I’d move in agreement to allow
whatever posture was best suited
for erotic dreams and fantasies.
I crave the same ecstasy your pillow experiences
every night: your weight upon me,
pressure, thrust and drag molding me
so I belong without doubt, to you.
What bliss to be your pillow!
I can imagine nothing more lovely
than to wake and find
I hold your head against me.