In my dreams you come to me
emaciated and starving, a sick dog,
clinging onto my arm.
You took and took, pulling the marrow
from my bones until I was empty.
I watched you as you grew and grew,
the gluttony taking hold until I had no flesh left.
Still it wasn’t enough.
Your mouth was slick with A, B, AB, O
(though I didn’t know.)
And the pressure piled onto your back.
Now weightless and carried
on the currents of the air, I may watch
you trundle along, wearing my leather,
sucking on my teeth.
I am cotton, casting no shadow, reflecting
only light; you have absorbed the worst
of my burdens, and now drag yourself,
hunch-backed, across the ground.
You are nothing again. I am sick and tired
of delivering blow after blow in sleep.
I have fought you enough; I’m free.