"when" is too big a word

dreamt I murdered someone

last night 

had blood on my hands

      don’t say Macbeth, please. 

a sickening feeling 

that wouldn’t go away

as if I’d already committed 

the crime

our daughter’s face

the one with my curls

and your golden fire

well her face crumpled

apart with shame

always swimming

from island to island

escaping myself

my lies

the relics of the past

left behind to watch me

headless statues

poke out of turquoise water

something shimmering

out of reach

not wanting these

dormant thoughts

that lie waiting in my brain

like a cancer ready to spread

and take hold

yet always that sinister need

to grope for the exit door

to write in a get-out clause

just in case I fail

we didn’t find the body after all