3:AM Magazine

By Tracy Brannstrom.

I sit on the carpet and pout my mouth and keep my eyes closed and put my face to the fibers

I hear the dial tone that is so distinct but I always forget it in my sleep

I put everything raw and torn on my tongue and taste it and then tell you about it

I slide down the wooden boards and say it feels fun and

I pick you up and throw you into the sky and watch the wind carry you

I sleep in a soft warm bed and scream my feelings out loud and it sounds like GRIM! BLEAK! BORED! CONTAGIOUS! ENTERTAINED!

I make you fit into a tiny pocket of air and surround the pocket with ants, spiders, centipedes crows and snakes

I put things in my lungs and let them sleep there until they are too frozen to awaken on their own

I kick bite and punch at the crowded space and flip everyone upside down and around until they love me less

I pour bubbles in your mouth and put them on your hair and on your hands and you become unstable and fall down the stairs

I thank you for taking my tights off on the couch, standing in empty space

feeding love potions to my mouth in the dark

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
tracy and her cat have wild adventures. she likes neon colors and tiny mouse hands.

First published in 3:AM Magazine: Wednesday, February 20th, 2008.