She likes to cuddle first and then
Go to sleep in her own bed
She believes her dreams
Are sacred communications
And though she never writes them down
She wonders about them
On and off all day
She thinks they are a truer version
Of the previous day’s emotional events
But replayed in reverse and unrehearsed
In which her real self appears
As it rarely does in the waking world
More beast than beauty
More beauty than beast
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