Parasomnia
I. Overcast mornings in Augustsleeping in only our underwear, backsto the windows. No bodies in our bedsjust my father’s tee shirtstuck fast to my skin with sweat,a hole in the collar. I see the feetat opposite ends of the hallway,mussed with the hypnagogia between. The glass in the bathroom bears lightbut darkens the two-dimensionalplanes of […]