Dreams From Naps, by Rachel Schloss

1.
Pitch black.
Light feigned from the device
like a smile,
and with the closet door ajar,
the email on the screen
flicks back and forth infinitely.

 

2.
A mattress in the desert:
They sat upon it, receiving guests.
He read her a poem about New York
She tried not to smile too much
His legs were crossed lotus style
Hers were draped like curtains–
a toe in the hot sand.

 

3.
Climbing a mountain
in Russia. Everything
is green: his shirt
the grass the sky.
It is peaceful, the way that
we do not speak,
the way that he puffs his chest
at the top, the way that
I resign myself
to the view of the valley.

4.
Flying
on a rug
right out
of a friend’s
apartment. The sky
is navy, the window
is mahogany,
but baby blue
envelops me
when I escape
to the sky
on a Persian
woven chariot.

5.
The cat’s tail slithers
like a snake, blurs
its shape into a double
helix. It seems to move
ceaselessly. It lulls me
into hypnosis,
the deepest sleep

 


Rachel Schloss grew up in New York City and studies at the University of Toronto.