Ode to Analysis

You come in my dream
Denying death
its definitive right
Appear after eight years
And drink from the faucet
of my bath
Cool water cupped
in my hands
Like you did daily
5,292 times
I sit naked on terry cloth
Drying in the sunshine
And you lick cocoa butter
Barefaced from my legs
Your ghost body
lustrous and young again
Stretched along my limbs
Heedless of hair
on unshaven skin
Unconditional love of my life
returned to unconscious
When I wake to the bark
of your replacement
And Freud, I don't want
to hear it

© Ellaraine Lockie
This poem is from Ellaraine Lockie's new book entitled, "Finishing Lines," published by Snark Publishing. To order, send $5 to Snark Publishing, 637 W. Hwy. 50, #119, O’Fallon, IL 62269 or visit www.snarkpub.com