ALONE IN a NOVEL
by Jessica DePue

I dreamt that I was the character
In a novel by Milan Kundera
The sky yet unspoiled by war's haze
Bore an elegant gold
The gilded sheen of Barcelona
Painting my soul an ornate cathedral

My shoulder blades with weightless ease
Lifted, expelling gravity's depleting grip
Otherwise unremarkable, the day of my dream
Passed as any day ever does
Parting air, absorbing earth
Noting all nuance before I startle

From my pace in fiction
Get written into reality
Back to tireless aspirations and labors
Love in the literal, viciously imperfect
Always knawing with strong sharp teeth
Prodding, bruising my sensitive skin

I break out in rashes,
Unleash inner turmoil
Resist the inevitable erasure of memory
All the while laughing that I should cry,
Shed the uncertain relief of finding
Myself alone in a beautiful novel