Incubus

And it came to my bed
and lay upon me. It pressed
on my body and stretched me
full length. It wrapped me
three times round and turned me
every way of turning.
It spit hot exotic spumes
of breath all about my face
and its voice came from a place
deep in my brain: Wake, it spat,
Wake to this. And it turned me
over and shoved its thumbs
beneath my blades, wrenched
at them, oh, the pain,
and someone yelled, Wings!
And it took all I had
to fling it off, to turn my body
back to the pose of sleep.
And I never said a word.
Never opened my eyes.

 

Poems by Kathleen Lynch: