Dream

Curled up, cushions like sponge cakes,
Fat, warm, light, comforting.
He rolled over, clock peeping dimly into view.
9:00
Defiant flashing
Rolled over buttercup visage,
The feel of his cheek, against the soft flesh of his forearm.
That dream again,
And a slightly anxious quiet,
Dimly lit memories
Slipping through his dew dulled mind.
Reoccurring forests,
Steeped with roaming lichen,
Twisting paths
Through subconscious slumber.
Eyes shut, rebelliously
A wide yawn
The decapitating snap of his jaws
Slipping quickly into sleep.
The warmth of his bed engulfing him.
A wave,
Receding from the shore,
And dragging him with it,
Slowly,
Out,
To see.