Untitled 96

photo: Dana Twining

i stand at your door with my dreams in my hands
afraid to knock
the art of my face is too well known
the stories in my eyes already read
and you
so intent on plucking the fruits of your fantasies
have no time
for the dreams in my hands
     crushed now and broken
or the love in my heart
     aged like fine wine, untasted
you have not even seen me in years
though i lie beside you every night
waiting
to become the woman of your dreams