I come to your pillow to whisper sing
Neil Young in your ear.
You are sleeping, your eyelids shuttering
in response to a nightfear.
You sweat cold because cold is knocking
at our room’s barrier
and the window lets it in.
The cold is freezing in a foggy room with a
damp bed from dewy draught.
It chills my skin as seeing me holding you
tight tight to release your fright.
The cold is freezing in a foggy room with you
releasing a gripping bite from a
dream you awaken from and to.