by Samantha Moore

Asleep with garnet in my navel
and rosemary oil on the souls of my feet
I dream safely, if not soundly

Suffering an unslakable thirst
to be washed over
Clear, cold, rushing –
Lungs expressed
Flesh, goosey
and New

Asleep again, with garnet in my navel
I am bathing dreams, From
and Into

Journal, Volume 2 Issue 2