Fever Dreams Pt. 2

by Kim Stoll

You woke at 2:46,

kicked the sheets from

your sweat-glossed legs,

to tell me about a dream

where a fish floats belly-up,

reborn under thin sheets of ice.

You were that fish.

Moved so painfully slow,

pressed your skeleton against

your flesh and could not escape.

Then you were snagged

and yanked to the surface,

gutted and scraped of

all your scales on

a mossy table.

Your eyes rolled between

the floorboard and back

into the lake

where the other fish

pecked away at them.

---

Kim Stoll is a junior creative writing major with a minor in film studies. Her poetry has previously been published in RiverCraft and her chapbook, Through a Pinhole.

Coming next week: poetry by Alex Gaurco