4, Someone Else's Nightmare.
You hand me my costume, the talons, the teeth.
I have forgotten what to do with them.
You slip them into place, push me into position, center stage.
Spotlights stain the space behind my eyelids, violet,
rose.
These colors are wrong.
Opening my eyes, I see that you have taken up the white sword.
I will not be in someone else's nightmare.
I strip to a bare body, warm skin over warm flesh,
and walk through an opening window into the desert.
I have my own nightmares.
I am for instance afraid of thirst, of the dark.