The Men In My Dreams
All the men in my dreams are featureless. I turn away and there they are. Staring at me with their spotless faces. I wish I could say what color their eyes are or whether they have straight teeth. At first I think I am in love with them. That perhaps they are my lovers. But knowing tells me they are only there to commit some small violence. As they reach out with large hands, what I want folds in on itself. I wish to go, I long to escape, but can not. Just as they are close enough to touch me, I wake up, fists closed to reject. Legs open to receive. © Lisa Zaran
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