Sweet Dreams

From Sleepy to Snow White in a sick and wrong sort of way

Snow White, oh if you only knew
I slept so often just to
dream of loving you.
Every yawn escaped from my
yearning lips a sandman's
ode to your perfection,
each stretch of my stubby limbs
symbolic of my ardor.

Now I am the one awake
as you lie in eternal slumber,
an apple as your cursed sedative.
Your skin even more like
fine marble now that it is cold.

Yet, there is some solace for
my burning heart's (and loins') desire.
I could never have professed my love
and even more unlikely was a chance
to consummate my passion before you left.
But now that you are dead.....
I can finally share your bed!