Dream #1027

Day Ten of Thirty Days of Writing

Kat Fossell
Jul 23, 2017 · 1 min read
Photo by Kat Fossell

Fast and long as a bolt of lightning
a revelation stops me as I fall asleep.
A meditation for the penial gland;
beats and a hand of copper reaching.
Snakes biting around your ankles
and all the words you’ll never say pouring from my mouth
like vomit on the deck floor, easily wiped away.

Who was she? When the veins in your arm turned blue?
I was caught in an elevator and saw myself, scared of falling.
A book comes to me from the birthplace of a would-be lover.
I’d already seen the pictures from the zoo and the light of the full moon.
There were twelve guardians — pious stones.

Four left us when the bridge collapsed suddenly.
You are a fantasy I am still paying for.
The cost of murder is measured in hundreds of dollars but not thousands.

Kat Fossell

Written by

doesn’t believe in short bio’s

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade