Jack Doverspike
Joined September 2018
0 stories
Stories (4/0)
Dream Interlude
Face pale, on a quilt of journals: some open, some closed, like checkerboards. Black and white is the face and hair, somewhere in between is the desk’s pigment. Blacked out on a stack of books, with eyes closed—but half open—drooped to the end of the spines. Sore to the point of screaming when standing. I go deeper into dream flashes, I jolt and the wood shakes.
By Jack Doverspike6 years ago in Poets