My Faun

my faun

my forest friend 

will you not 

breathe 

into your pipes

and lull me

to sleep

against 

the green hill

my hair is tangled 

in the grass

and I am curled

into the ferns 

and the clover flowers

there is nothing 

I want more

than to let my bright 

eyes soften into slits 

and pretend 

that I am not 

watching you

watch over me