Woman in the kitchen, rats in dichotomy
On her sleepy entrance in a night of dreams
Beaten awake by cold, lungs like grandma’s bosom
Light poles in a bedroom
Over bedridden darkness
So much care, she gives
Loses her name in the call
Hands deep in black
Eyes become a night
For shoelaces, hold walk
Into a single shoe where
Crawling leeches maraud as brain cells
Woman lost in the wake
Head ablaze from grainy dream
Corpse on the move; this bike trip will be very long.
Bio;
Christina Pan's short stories and poetry appear or are forthcoming in Trouvaille Review, Lumiere Review, and Ember. She currently lives in New York City.