In a dream

by Taraneh Sohrabi 

In a dream,
                       the person across the room from me
(the right side)
below her matching twin bed,
is white like pearls under
navy blue frigid water.

when her arm extends
from under the bedframe’s skirt,
 lifting it gently like a stage curtain,
I see her purple-to-black veins.

Her eyes are white, and where the pupil was,
a decaying inverted cone 

of soft, cloudy blueish iris tissue.

.

.

She does it again and again:

Extend her arm from under the bed or
                      lay on the bed and reach for me—
                      and I am not afraid, and I laugh,
or feign fear for her,
because I know she likes it.