Imaginary Hollywood

By C. D. Wright

The set was on when she fell asleep

In black and white

a woman was gliding through a garden in period clothes

and a child was touching

a pane of wavy glass with the flat of her hand

Another woman

was all but flying down a spiral stairs in a flouncy gown

that showed off

the cut of her breasts and a lone golden strand

of hair playing at her ear

It was because of…she didn’t want to grow any older

her resistance

was strong the dream’s spores hung in the air

in another room

a parent was dying in short shallowing breaths

she needed

somewhere to put all of that emotional excess

that’s the way

it was when she began talking in fake accents

sleeping late

as a lake to avoid as many hours of living

dread as if dread

could be outslept; the stretch limo

in her eleven-year-old head wrapped itself around the corner

That’s the way

it would be, everyone slender as drinking straws

nobody leaky

or hurting or or abjectly religious, everything


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