I Fell Asleep in the Arms of a Strange Man

I fell asleep in the arms of a strange man.

It was my first time living away from home,

I had a room to myself, a bed to myself,

personal space, autonomy, freedom at last,

and I had a surprise visitor.

I fell asleep in the arms of a strange man.

It was threatening, it was burning,

it was new, against the rules, and it was

my fault that the blinds were drawn

and the window was hermetically sealed shut.

I fell asleep in the arms of a strange man

whose heavy black jacket wraps me from my chin

to nearly my knees, and whose cologne I can clearly

describe as a rather floral, gentle, and slightly astringent

but tastefully aggressive in its placement along his shirt collar.

I danced in the dark in the arms of a strange man.

Soulful sounds and stifled voices,

sniffling, shifting, and quiet night noises.

The blanket stayed neatly folded,

maybe a pillow was used.

No one else alive in the world but us two.

I fell asleep in the arms of a strange man.

I gave and received soft sighs, thinking about time.

It felt nice just to lie, maybe it was his size, or my pride

or simply the fact of being like that at night.

I was never confused, in need, or worried, and I-

I fell in love with the eyes of a strange man.

The soft smile, sparkling brown eyes, and warmth.

I hugged him until I wept with happiness,

asphyxiated him in my sleep until I was breathless,

and I burned until time slipped away and so he had to as well.

I remember the night I had excellent sleep, the soul to love, and a tree to hug.

Good night, sir. You'll only get Stranger and stranger from here.