Tonight, I will dream of a girl. 

I have not seen her yet, so of course, I cannot tell you what she looks like. 

I have not heard her yet, so of course, I cannot tell you what she sounds like. 

I have not dreamt her yet; I cannot say what she dreams like. 

But I would like to think…

she knows me.

She has seen me, and she tells her bunk-mates that my face is burned and describable. 

She has heard me, and she repeats my songs in hums on the water-way. 

She has dreamt me, and she has begun curing me, healing me, all from inside her cocoon of fluff.

It will not take long for us to meet.