Night Dreams

What is there left for the night to dream of
In a slow revolutionary moment?
The thirteenth year since the seconds died
And drip-drop shadows shifted in time
To the shimmer of loss as a mind rearranges.
Changes scheming in empty places.
Possessed by you forever
And the night dreams won’t cease
Where I’m butchered and beaten and eaten alive
All by your love while I lay here and die.

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Filed under poem, poetry

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