By Zoé Orfanos
Lately my dreams have been endings,
corpse-blunt and scaled,
a crocodilian drag
away from the light.
But awake is not immune.
Dawn sharpens endless
ordinary weapons, like a child
grinds their pencil to a point.
These sun-smoothed objects
trail shadows as jagged as teeth:
a cracked and gleaming hull, an endless
driving heat, two lips shielding a scream.
Lately my days have been endings.
Drawing the clouds in close,
nuzzling the fading greys,
sinking into lightless release.