in this dream i rise from my seat

and become a professor, standing

at the front of the lecture hall.

i’m not speaking but looking

out at all the faces, and i think

one of them is my own.

i look at myself straight in the eye

for the first time in my life, and immediately

i want to look away.

i see what others see in me—my eyes

spilling fear, the scar on my left cheek,

rising and waning like a star.

i want to look away, and yet

to see myself

in truth, shrinking

in my seat, trying

so very hard to disappear.

i want to see my skin, how it is ruptured and alive–

my hands, the veined fabric, unraveling.

all my life i have only seen myself

behind the cloak of a mirror, and now,

to finally see myself,

to finally see yourself—

the words scribbled

on your lips, your mouth.

to know that this is not a dream

because you are really here, yes,

you are really alive.