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Three Notes on Daydreaming

Annie Dobson


1. To orgasm, I think of a mushroom cloud b l o o m i n g & becoming the sea. It settles. There are mutant fish in the water & it is so beautiful you mistake the meaning of the tears in my eyes, say yeah? yeah? Please do not confuse Cold War imagery with any lack of affection for you. Here, I gift you your very own mushroom cloud, the biggest I could find; gift wrapped, spitzed with perfume.

2. A patient on the mental health ward tells the nurse he would benefit from communion. I sit in the waiting room, door open & try telekinesis. I pick up the nurse & patient like figurines, feel them become brass. I carry them through the air to church. Once there, redress them in genderless, white tunics. I nudge the dormant priest figurine to begin him & then leave them to it. The nurse comes in the waiting room at full size and sees me biting my hands. Subtitles appear underneath my face that say I will not be difficult

3. We have always swam with our eyes closed. It is a family tradition like opacks of seeds gifted on birthdays & drinking only clear spirits. My twin sister & I are at the women’s session at the pool because men’s wet bodies make us nauseous. I swim through a neurotypical brain like tapeworm. The brain-holder slaps themself around the face and I swim the shape of a coffin. You must understand that each breaststroke is a month; six minutes & we are so intimate now. & when they nod, I swim the letters f o r  t h e  b e s t & pull myself out of the pool, dead-fish-flop on the side. When I open my eyes I see my legs again, learning that once again, I have butchered myself.

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