I dream
Of storms and lakes
That I must inexplicably swim in,
Only to spring from the water
Out into a misty forest.
Running on bare feet
I fear the cries of
Repulsive black shadows
That want to lick my skin raw,
Leaving live nerves exposed to their tortures.
I crush the knife-like urge to scream
Though I only have weak moonlight
To drive them back.
Later, as the rain rusts my hair,
I trudge back, aching,
To the bed I left in sleep
-srw
