Dialogue For The Self


An open chest, a chamber,
immaculate. The forehead slick
with sweat & a shortened nightmare.
Look, how I wake, gasping.

You look like a throat
shrunken to half its size. You look like
you don’t breathe in your sleep.
You look like you panic
once at night & once in the morning.

I wake, revived, heart kicking
like an other. But did I?
In the aftermath, I speak
of so much wetness, the whole bed
an unnamed sea. I wake submerged,
but gladly, oh, so gladly.


DEVIANT is an American writer best known for their poetry and memoir-hybrids. They believe in the power of words, silence, and the transfiguration of that which is impolite to publicize but far too important to repress. Find them on Twitter @darlingknife.