2,440 Readings | 12 Ratings

Asleep on Repeat

I was the house, I was the boy. I was the field, expanding. I was the lake
and the ripped wall, the freeway that crumbled the field. When I was frightened
I mimicked water. When I was jealous, the ground froze. Two glass floats anchored
my mantelpiece in dust. My chimney: red brick, stuffed with nests. I lit a fire
and the hearth exploded. Birds opened my windows to hunt for eggs. In the sodden
hallway I looked for God. God? My sheets are clean. My hair is dry. I lie
alone, asleep on repeat, warm in a gullet of pillow. Upstairs my boy is falling
through the attic and watching himself fall.

Posted 01/16/10
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