The Men In My Dreams

All the men in my dreams
are featureless.
I turn away and there they are.
Staring at me with their spotless faces.
I wish I could say
what color their eyes are
or whether they have straight teeth.
At first I think I am in love with them.
That perhaps they are my lovers.
But knowing tells me they are only there
to commit some small violence.
As they reach out with large hands,
what I want folds in on itself.
I wish to go, I long to escape,
but can not.
Just as they are close
enough to touch me,
I wake up, fists closed to reject.
Legs open to receive.

by Lisa Zaran

Comments (1)

As they reach out with large hands, what I want folds in on itself. I haven't experienced this exactly but somehow I know what she's talking about. Very strong and honest poem.