her grey hair lifts from where it spreads across the pillow,
she wakes in a sweat.
she believes in her dreams,
paying close attention to the man wielding the axe,
made of wisps, made of fear.
she moves to stand up.
surrendering to her will, surrendering his axe,
the man lies down on her mattress, engulfed in her scent,
dreaming of ashen tresses,
and of slender arms lifting a glistening axe.