I dream, I dream.

~

I am outside the Civic Center, a flat faced Art Deco building. It's twilight.

There is a group of men. They are loud, aggressive. Looking for fun.

I look fun.

I see their faces, climbing over each other like excited monkeys. Their curling lips, their words, not unkind but spoken with sneers.

They are backing me towards the wooded area at the top of the hill, quietly, quietly, like animals surrounding their prey.

My stomach is a fist. I feel sick. There are a few people around, but no one notices the danger. No one sees it.

A pedestrian. I recognize him. It's Jesse, from high school. When was the last time I'd seen him? I don't remember.

"Jesse!" I gasp, with too much familiarity.

"Hey, Rosie!" His face lights up when he sees me. It always did. I never understood why.

He grasps my hand, half hand-shake, half excited grip.

"It's great to see you!" I say, and I grip his hand tightly, my fingernails adding the emphasis I'm afraid to show in my voice.

The great pack of monkeys behind me stills a bit, murmurs, shifts.

Jesse glances, barely, over my shoulder, and catches on without a word.

"I'm just heading home," he says. "Want to come to my place for some tea?"

I'm so relieved, I don't let go of his hand. I nod, and I am safe.

~

I chew my cheeks in my sleep. It's an anxiety thing, I think.

I wake up with blood in my mouth and sores that take days to heal. I wash my mouth out with hot water heavy with salt, and I hope it helps.

~

My boyfriend is a man, but I can tell you little else. He is dark haired, I think, and taller than me, but not by much.

He is naked. He pushes me over the heavy table, the sharp edge of it biting into the crease of my hips. It's raining heavily outside, and the roof is in bad repair, so I get drips on my naked skin.

His fist is tight in my hair, and his breath his hot on the curve of my neck.

"I've left the keys for you," he breaths, fumbling for the zipper of his pants. "You can live here for free while I'm gone. Keep an eye on the other tenants."

I squirm under him, roll so I face him, bent backward over the table.

I kiss him, this face I love so well, this face I will miss so much.

"I can fix the leaks in the roof!" I tell him, and he looks confused.

"Why would you do that?"

~

I wake up to a car alarm. I poke my head out the window long enough to make sure it's not my car, then collapse, exhausted, back into bed.

I hope I can pick up the thread of the dream again.

~

He is ageing backward, my boyfriend.

It is getting worse. Even I can see it.

He had chest hair this morning. But now his chest is smooth and thin, a teenage frame.

He is going to a hospital. He doesn't want anyone to see him but me.

We are fucking as much as we can, until his body can no longer hold a sexual erection.

There is a void in my heart. I cling to him, his dark hair, his otter body, trying to fill the hole, but I can never quite get him close enough. His fingers grip my hips, squeeze my breasts, hungry, hungry, nipping my soft flesh in little bursts of pain.

The others in the building have not seen him in so long they think he's dead. Someone gives me a card.

But he's not. He's still here. Fading, maybe, but here.

~

The wounds in my mouth heal, adding layers to the ropes of scars in my cheeks.

There's a crick in my back, and I'm alone.

.

Rosie.

Before&After