Love

I have a dream.

I am blind,
I am searching for love
With fingers.
I grope under sheets searching, worming my fingers
Always searching.
My sheets are sharp; I cut fingers, stretching out

I brush warm flesh.
I run my hands forward, to touch its face
To celebrate our new love.

I find its mouth; its teeth are sharp as it bites off a finger.
I shrink back screaming.

I continue my search, trailing blood,
The blood is hot, it makes me shiver I am terrified.

Again I brush warm skin this time I waste nothing I find the mouth and
Clamp over it with my fingers.
It will not bite me again.
It would not bite me, too late, it is suffocated.
I crawl over its body, skin against skin. Dead flesh still warm, and stiff.

My bed is huge, huge as the world. It is my world.

Slowly I scrape and drag my body under heavy duvet.
Reaching out with straining fingers. But I hit cold wall.
My journey has ended. My delicate fingers are crippled, scratched and bleeding.

It is coming, I fear it coming.

Then against my back I feel, fingers.
They are the fingers I have been crawling from.
They stroke my back lightly, trailing bruises, then winding their way about my body tightly hugging me,
The arms are strong and the bruises are spreading, I am now black.
The fingers find my mouth.

I can taste the blood of a bitten finger, the scathes of my sheets.
So I do not bite.

I feel the fingers in my mouth,
Stroking my mouth, my tongue. I close my milky eyes as the fingers push down my throat. I swallow,
The feeling is strange the fingers smooth, stroke, slide and search inside me.
They find my little heart beating fast, faster, faster.
The fingers slide around it, around the muscle and tug.
It brings its fingers out of my mouth, still clutching my heart.

I say I love you,
When I can

And my fingers find its mouth.