“When the work of interpretation has been completed the dream can be recognized as wish fulfillment.”
—Sigmund Freud
I don’t know if
the weather is fine because
it’s your dream. Barbed
wire surrounds you. I’d like
for there to be cool wind
that makes you halfwake
and slide your hand into the elastic
of my underwear. It’s not
a sexual gesture. You are looking
for solid ground, Sanctuary.
2. You are against the wall.
I don’t what part
of the wall is you, what part wall.
Green vines creep up. There is
no wind. Nothing to link to
the howling in my chest.
A tic—I see you—brick
and blood. You do not reach
out. My name is on the ground.
3. This one is rabbits.
This one is skin without safety,
grass without pigment, juice
from an unknown fruit. If you
can trust it, it might kill you,
so you trust it and it does and
you wake up.