My regular readers know that I often wake from dreams and turn them into poems. Well, this time I can't come up with a poem about what I dreamt, so I'll just tell about it, like a normal blogger would!
I am not particularly a fan of Marilyn Monroe, though of course, I find her story poignant. I'm not even someone who especially likes blondes, though Beatrice would dispute this. And yet, I dreamt last night that Marilyn Monroe made love to me. (It was, um...spectacular!)
Not only that, but in my dream I didn't have to be the physical equivalent of a (cash for) clunker. I was me, but young and beautiful. Did I mention that this was a really good dream? I did? Are you sure?
After the second time of being made love to by Marilyn, I woke up. I still had four hours to sleep! Life is good.