Dream me by Kristin Garth

Punk Noir Magazine

Supine, summertime, beneath an oil brushed 

swan, eye flickers syncopate with her husband’s

yawns.  Gone away with a serotonin rush

she shrinks just enough for Wonderland.

Though feet won’t touch Persian carpets on her 

way there, she ties a black ribbon in 

silver hair which yellows when the purrs 

of a pink pussycat beckon within

the lost habitat.  Here she endures as 

her truest self, without decrepit bones

deteriorating health.  Surpasses  

the hare on her way to tea, she moans 

beneath mushrooms so the centipedes see

how she has grown up with this fantasy.