tomiwareaps

In this dream, I’m laying face down in stagnant water, pale insects landing where the sun burns my back. My heart falls from a lined opening in my chest to the lake floor and is consumed by tiny fish. When they swim, they ring like communion bells, muffled by gallons of clog. I walk out of the lake completely dry and have lunch with a new friend. We talk about helplessness as though it were the only dresses we owned. It’s too early to tell her I love her, but I do so anyway, and it works out better than I had hoped. (I can count the people I love with one hand. I don’t think this will change.) The fish always return to me