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Description
I told you if I went to jail I’d kill you.
He said it; dream-he repeats
in this breed of him-nightmares
where I am running not laying,
screaming not silent.
It sounds coffin-hollow,
not his lips forming this
explanation for the butterfly
reflected in eyes mirror-flat.
Dream-terror screaming,
I barricade the door to the room
where once there was a bed
where once he said he loved me
where it’s still written on the wall
and call the police.

It is in the slow rise from sleep
that I realize his smallness,
contracted to an adolescence
that could not stop me stopping him.

Description
I told you if I went to jail I’d kill you.
He said it; dream-he repeats
in this breed of him-nightmares
where I am running not laying,
screaming not silent.
It sounds coffin-hollow,
not his lips forming this
explanation for the butterfly
reflected in eyes mirror-flat.
Dream-terror screaming,
I barricade the door to the room
where once there was a bed
where once he said he loved me
where it’s still written on the wall
and call the police.

It is in the slow rise from sleep
that I realize his smallness,
contracted to an adolescence
that could not stop me stopping him.