sleep running

the only time i run is in my sleep.
i dream of legs the size of ant colonies.
behind me are all the jewelry men
& wedding faces i have tried to sell on ebay. 
a chicken with a human mouth 
tries to catch up. he is selling a subscription
to the moon. he says, "if you don't
renew now, your free trial will end
& you will stop being able to look up."
there is no where to stop. the street
turns into a catacomb turns into
a radio wave. the voice of an old man
talking to himself & one other tongue.
you asked me once why i wake up
covered in sweat. i go to the shower,
still panting, limb trembling from 
my near escape. i tell you i have night terrors
but i leave out the part about
running until my body is bicycle.
in my hometown i run through the park.
street lights cast my spider shadow.
the owls & the night children run too.
barefoot. bare hands. a squirrel 
offering a rest in exchange for a breath.
i let the water spill over me. 
wear my lungs as slippers. mist in the air.
the morning sun, a little thumb print
on the day's chin. i sit on the floor
in the tub. rub my hands over my face.
remember when even the dandelions ran
to try to capture me. what they all
wanted with me, i still do not know. 
look at my face in the mirror
& see what is missing. a footprint
where my mouth used to be. 
spend the day trying to set traps for
whatever might chase me in the dark. 
useless. all the alley ways & all the corridors
& just full of mourning doves.
they pretend they do not remember,
saying, "what do you mean you were hunted?"