"Help with what?" He asked of me. "Tell me what you will.

And though I know not what you mean, I can help you still."

I looked and paused, then I said, "I have a friend you see,

and I could love him very much, but is he fond of me?

"We talk and laugh as such friends do and I try to understand,

that when we are together alone, he'll not even touch my hand."

He looked into my sad blue eyes, and smiled a wicked grin.

"I know of soemthing that can help, so let us just begin."

He then reached and took my hand, (which he said felt cold and dead),

he led me up into my room, then sat me on my bed.

I folded my hands and turned away, I felt myself turn pink.

So softly then he touched my face, suddenly, I could not think.

He leaned me back against the pillow, and turned my face to his.

He whispered, "please do not be scared." Then comforted me with a kiss.

He found me with his warm embrace and I felt myself respond.

I forgot my friend I thought I loved; all else but us was gone.

He hands were strong, but delicate to, as they gently carressed my breasts.

His skin felt smooth against my own. Tonight I'd get no rest.

The time so swiftly it did go by, as we were making love.

Together, we became one intimate soul, alight on the wings of doves.

When it was over, he kissed me again, this time long and deep.

And when we stopped he said, "Hello." And told me not to weep.

I turned away and said I wouldn't but we both knew it was a lie.

I turned back, he wasn't there. Knowing the truth, I begin to cry.

There was no man, there never was, it was all awonderful dream.

A dream that hurts, yet comforts all the same...is nothing what it seems?

I get up and put on some cloths, then brush my long brown hair.

I keep looking back with wistful hope, that he just might be there.

I shake my head and sit wearily down, then open up a book.

I start to write about my dreams, of love, life and you.

Is it something that I lack?"