Corpse
Poetry
I have this dream of when I’m older — around 45 or so and life is so much different than it ever was before.
I have this dream my past won’t matter; I can look into the eyes of my children and see parades of hope I had never felt.
I have this dream I am devoted and I am eternally loved; laughter fills the living room as family’s redefined and I’m surrounded by people who truly care for me.
I have this dream that I am cared for and I feel everything; every morning sounds like laughter and every day feels like it’s Christmas. My children clamor down the halls in joyous tirades as my husband mops the kitchen floor and says,“I’ll clean it up.”
I have this dream I am a mother, a doctor, a lover, a linguist; I know my family better than myself and I can speak their language. No longer am I the fool who wills the other foot to drop.
In this dream, I am an optimist and I am me again. All my worries melt away and I can face my childhood.
Through this, I’ve been murdered but it’s anguish I welcome readily. I am reborn into something new; a new corpse to carry around. It is death to the nihilist for I am healed, I am loved.
In this dream, I live again.
A special thanks to Denise Larkin for publishing my work!
