To prepare for sleep we curl
toward each other like
brine shrimp
lungs to lungs
my dreams are budding
apple blossoms in the field
their blooming premature
at first I jerk myself awake
not ready
then finally succumb
and let the dreamfruit
open
to summer’s slippery sleep
the roots tractoring deeper,
slithering through soft soil
unfurling
like fern fronds
with hundreds of eyes scalloping
their backs
listening for the whispering
of humid air
on our breathy lips.
We dream of safety
of illusions
of holding
of the together of touching
that we don’t initiate in our paralysis
just a deep and surrendering arrest
of the present moment
timeless, unceasing,
unawake.
Svetlana Litvinchuk graduated from University of New Mexico. She is the author of a debut poetry chapbook, Only a Season (Bottlecap Features, 2024). Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net and received an honorable mention in prose poetry for the Northwind Writing Award. Her poetry has appeared in Apple Valley Review, Sky Island Journal, Jet Fuel Review, About Place, Plant-Human Quarterly, and elsewhere. Originally from Kyiv, Ukraine, she now lives with her husband and daughter in Cape Girardeau, MO. She is the reviews editor for Only Poems.