From a Freudian Dream

From one me to the others,

Especially she who casts her body on the eternal floor
Emitting short, guttural bursts
Swinging a tear-soaked stick as
Pieces of flesh fly aloft
to and fro,
A swirling blur
Splashes across breasts
of gawking strangers.

You took no notice as I
Silently retrieved
A small piece
of these smithereens,
Carried it back to my bunker,
Spread it on a soft nutrient medium,
Tweezers teasing the edges
Into an optimal position.

Under a dome of thick glass,
It now rests on the sill.
I sit watchfully beside it
in a rocking chair.

I will be patient.

For far too long
From this sequestered room
I have witnessed you
and the careless one
who loses and maims fragile things inadvertently.
Run the show.