Metamorphosis

by Lindsay Lynch

Sometimes I awake in the middle of the night
and beneath the heavy hands of a dream
I think that we are lovers.

I am not alone in the darkness.
Between sweat soaked sheets
everything is imaginary:
The way you scoop me up from slumber,
dust my eyelids shut with your touch
and then stroke my back
until I fall asleep again.
Warm air circulates around us.

This is of course just my dream
and also, my plea to you.
Everything that we cannot be hangs over me
like a canopy.

I wake up and tread with golden slippers
to the bathroom.
I splash water over my face until
it is red and unrecognizable.
I wash away all the kisses
that you have never planted on my cheeks.

I dream about how I could make you love me.

I wish you could see me when I cry,
I look so beautiful.