dreams

by Lisa LaTourette



at night when the words come

lost in the light & the dark

fireflies reckless behaving

& restless lengths of my white fingers

& doubting control

almost releasing

what crouches out of sight,

the part that might sing,

but only a worm worthless curve & coiling,

mouthfuls of metallic dirt;




then jerking awake

every blood brain skin cell

prickling; that sensation

deep in the root of your spine

of being pulled forward

towards a loss, a scent of a memory

that fades with the mornings

abrupt light.

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