A Dream

An elegy for you! In response to Writing 201’s Poetry Prompt: Fog.

Surrounded by a dream, vivid and alive,
Wandering disarranged hallways,
Reaching and running for elusive awards.

Touching the dream, warm cotton or flannel.
Noticing the dreamer, apart from the sleeper,
Stepping between asleep and awake.

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Death Grip

A prose poem for you! In response to Writing 201’s Poetry Prompt: Fingers.

That bar has an air of annoying superiority. An unnaturally violent reaction surges. Digit by digit, I press her cocky windpipe. My thumb closes around her black rubber. Choked. The floor drops from my feet. Dangling on hope. I start the swift ascent, exhaling out spongy lungs’ weight, fears and failures. Fresh found lightness lifts my chin above a lifeless bar. Ah! There’s the victor’s view. A moment on the top. Now gravity, my enemy. Muscles trembling, chlorophyll-less leaves in an autumn breeze. I am grabbed and grounded, releasing grip. The bar revives, she breathes and taunts, asks to be choked once more.