it’s morning
and I have been promised strength
to find beauty in this day,
but it’s so hard, because
in the fog behind my eyelids still lingers
you, with that look on your face,
with those looks on your face,
moving slowly through my dreams
to confront me in the daylight, and i
am bound in immobility,
you’ve disarmed me like you did
so many times before and
our history is history,
dead and gone
because you killed it
(and i buried it)
You’re not content with that.
you want to kill my
God-promised morning, too.
I refuse to allow your freckled hands
to coldly, warmly caress my awakening.
Get out of my bed,
you never belonged here,
I never should have let you in it.
Get out, shadow.
There will be no
drugged-up
date rapes
in my dreams.
