I stand before myself 
Palms open like blisters
and the heat of the summer wind
impacts the side of my face
like the soft reminder
that I am no longer myself.
Once, in the darkened halls of youth
-those sweet corridors -where I am no longer-
permitted to tread- 
I believe I found an explanation
-like water, still and deep after a storm-
And I collected my dreams,
sleeping women’s dreams,
and I plunged them into the still, dark water
My hands around her sweet throat
and I forbade them access
though her screams bubbled up
Like jellyfish to the surface.
My dreams, that I swore to protect,
but I was only human.