place a kiss on my cheekbone

But last night/this morning I dreamt of sampling the most exquisite chocolates with intricate designs on them and they were flaked with gold - real gold! - and it was all done for my birthday in a grand hall with marble tables that had ornate, gilded legs and adornments of golden tiaras encrusted with rubies and diamonds and antique lockets and there were flowing, diaphanous curtains and stuff and *u*

When I realised what the Erl-King meant to do to me, I was shaken with a terrible fear and I did not know what to do for I loved him with all my heart and yet I had no wish to join the whistling congregation he kept in his cages although he looked after them very affectionately, gave them fresh water every day and fed them well. His branches were his enticements and yet, oh yet! they were the branches of which the trap itself was woven. But in his innocence he never knew he might be the death of me, although I knew from the first moment I saw him how Erl-King would do me grievous harm.

Sometimes he lays his head on my lap and lets me comb his lovely hair for him; his combings are leaves of every tree in the wood and dryly susurrate around my feet. His hair falls down over my knees. Silence like a dream in front of the spitting fire he lies at my feet and I comb the dead leaves out of his languorous hair. The robin has built his nest in the thatch again, this year; he perches on an unburnt log, cleans his beak, ruffles his plumage. There is a plaintive sweetness in his song and a certain melancholy, because the year is over - the robin, the friend of man, in spite of the wound in his breast from which Erl-King tore out his heart.

(A little bit from The Erl-King by Angela Carter)

Once I dreamt of a man with long, long hair of leaves and thickets, and a crown of twined brambles. Whenever he advanced towards me with an arm outstretched, his fingertips would have thorny vines shooting out of them threatening to coil around me in a merciless embrace, and in fear of getting scratched and bloodied, I could only retreat with wide, terrified eyes. And he was robed and green. Very, very green and without emotion in his eyes.
That is all.
But when I read that part in the book I am reminded of this curious man who'd tried to court me in my dreams.