Embrace

Tossing and turning
In my sheets,
As my slumber is perversed and
plagued, By
Insomniac dreams.

My open, dreaming, eyelids
Gazing at the fading sides
Of the thing, I called bed
When arms slipped around me.

I felt them squeeze me gently;
I was afraid to turn my head back
To glance at who was settling in next to me,
But I secretly knew that there was no one there
And I was imagining this sweet embrace.