What dream? (Poem)
look at the child with the dream in her eyes
holding it deep inside her —s. mclachlan
dream what dream?
the shame-crazed fantasy?
the gut-wrenching, teeth-spewing nightmare?
can’t afford it
turn it off
no desire heat tensing thighs rising
none of it
you can’t anymore
nothing but a crusty blanket of
where they cut you
go ahead feel it
where pulp and lust used to thrive
See also these writings by Angela in this issue of Chrysalis:
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