No Dream Hover

I had no dream-hover

I found a fetish underneath my pillow

True blue blood-lover

I dug deeper into the mattress

Nails and fiber-tugger

My fingers roots and heart-hugger

I dug deeper and deeper and deeper

‘til my bed was my keeper

And whispered, sleep...here...sleep...her...

So I then crawled into slumber

And after three, after seven, after nine

I came to awaken and prepared to dine

There were the Ladies at one end

Passing dishes made of a bend, a mend

and seasoned with reasons and treasons

and herbs and excuses and juices

And muses danced to a gargled growl

Mighty howl

I ate some seconds, fourths then sixths

Saw her weaving on the Styx

Asked her what the cloth might be

She said the fabric was my she

What was meant was it was me

Inside the pattern was a tree

And there I stood plain to see

Upon my tongue there was a pea

Sweet and plump and little round

The cloth it made but not a sound

Around my neck this shawl was placed

My breasts and shoulders held the lace

And seen the smile creep on her face

When melt you into woven thread

is when he’ll strike and you’ll be dead.

Sure enough I heard the gong

And ten, eleven, twelve...

...

...

My me was gone....

© Rachel Lisi 2005