UNTITLED III

The dream begins

As the ambulance

Pulls away:

I’m still bleeding.

Weakness.

Having taken control

Of something of my own body.

I am not weak!

I am not unworthy of love!

See my pain

In red ink,

Indicating

That someone--

Who, I wondered-

Could read my letters

Written on my skin.

I’ve overdrawn my account.

In the dream I am moved

From room to room.

They don’t know where to put me.

They can’t find a square hole

For this square peg.

I am silent.

I stay quiet.

From room to room,

Briefly intersecting other lives,

We share a silence,

Then I’m gone again,

And the air I’ve displaced

Rushes back in as I leave.

Where to next?