The water is next to the bed. I am having those dreams where I am awake again. Whispering take your fingers away in sleepy protest moans.
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ALMOST HEAVEN | Elizabeth Tobin
The asphalt of summer stood still. Swum the deep end of mother’s disease and dreamed of dangling from telephone wires, calling the world to watch from under the table.
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Losing Teeth | Elizabeth Tobin
Swimming in between stubborn kindergarten gums, my mouth is full of blood. We pull up to that blue house while the kitchen curtain is on fire.
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VAGABOND CITY 