Interrupts

A set of keys
left in the freezer, another
in the palm
of her hand. Doors

open on contact
in her dream. And the lover
(there’s always a lover)
she’s about to

wake to
jangling metal

is strangely
familiar.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s