I had a dream the other night:

a deer drug itself up the road
and the deer moved quickly,
dragging its body raw along the concrete;
the dream quickly changed—

a woman looking out a window,
her back turned toward me
in an almost blur,
grey hair started to fall,

acetone on my hands.

“we’ve been doing this wrong, we weren’t supposed to drink it.”

dreams haunted me for so long,
risen from the dirt,
surrounded by phantoms.

grey skin,
smooth.

the strange likeness of the ordinary world,
the sinking feeling that something
was,
is,
deeply wrong.

stone,
carved hollow,
with strange men hovering inside.

the magic of trauma
transforms me
into strange beings,
a figure.

eerie truths, and
how do we release them?
screaming,
running
and lashing.

I had a dream the other night.

stone by molly therese bowes