“Rapid Eye Movement”

the weight of a dream

like buttermilk

soaking in the lungs

which stays

well past waking

dry eyed

interplanar sobs

over stars

cut a path across

the center of your chest

through the back

and into the spine

open your eyes

to the salt water

that stings

the cut in your mouth

you didn’t know

was there and presses

out your own

water to steal

back what had been taken

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