I feel you crawl into my skull—parasitic beast, roaring fresh breath into me. I am not awake, but lucidly walking through storm clouds in disarray. One of them strikes me with a severed bolt of lightning, until I am pinned down — the beast’s crown jewel — another notch, another host for his spectacle. In sleep, my orifices weep with the tremble of your pointer finger at my temple holding dreams in place. Your blood runs through my cumbersome skull. My cumbersome eyes wave goodnight.

Courtney Leigh Jameson