Hello all, this is my third poem for Nation Poetry Writing Month. It’s called In My Dreams.
I had a dream I was writing you a letter.
When I wrote my cursive on the page,
the lines whimpered at the violence of
the words, a fierceness that lives on the
other side of us.
In the dream you were restlessly alive.
I made you a mix CD and we sat listening
to it in your car because it made us feel
nostalgic for something we never
My dear Frankenstein, you are the one
who built me. I was plucked like a marionette
and made to write for you, and here I am,
still writing. In the dream, I saw men in
stockings and corsets, in
absentia, for you.