Dream Machine

by Alexandra Watson

i. stones in the crypts of my throat
foreign objects calcified
proof of bad men and language
i let into my mouth

ii. morning dew
on the bridge from
thigh to thigh
who goes there?

iii. a boardwalk from then ’til now
did we ever arrive?
sugar stalks for miles and miles and

iv. my body’s eye got distracted
confusing me for myself
my machine chants to herself, encantada

v. why should i be shy of my body
with my machine, when i came out of hers?

vi. my machine lets in lots of light
and sad starved women at the slots

vii. small, fresh-mouthed
girls, distant cousins
trespass on my sleep

vii. the poem in my throat
i excavate
we love me, we love me not

viii. fell asleep floating on a river
when i awoke, there she was
swimming in my shadow