A woman standing in a field of sunflowers with a ripped plastic wrap covering the frame of the camera


The window screen need not be closed tonight. 

Onshore wind pours through porous curtains. 

A cotton sheet wraps coolness around skin 

Still synthesizing July sun. 

I breathe air made for cicada chants 

While beneath the window lunar-led water

Pushes stone against stone 

Then folds into itself once more. 

When sleep comes, the water sound remains. 

Crests breaking 

Scooping stones in the trough. 

Image via Madeline Mullenbach

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