cutting fruit

the sound of laughter through sun-spotted trees,

i dreamed last night we were fae frolicking 

in rings of toadstools, in and out of trees.

fireworks went off in my head as 

suddenly you swung and the dream cracked wide open.

i think it's because even now i cannot reconcile

your kindness with your capacity to bite

and leave me bleeding, 

your shoreline push and pull, the watermelon-red trickles 

down your clean white sleeves.