The Silent Film

In this dream, I have lost you, and
suddenly my heart has turned

and I am dreaming about a man
who has died.

In his fury, he cut open his hands.

I become the girl who can see him,
can see the blood

and the way it looks like a family
of birds, red crows, with eyes

that have been removed.

He reaches for me with his blackened hands
and still I search for you.

I imagine you as if you would be
swallowing roses, and everything turns red—

the sky, the trees, my lips, empty,
without sound.

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About mckenzielynntozan

McKenzie Lynn Tozan lives and writes in South Bend, Indiana, where she works as the Departmental Secretary of English and World Language Studies at Indiana University South Bend, and remains closely affiliated with 42 Miles Press, New Issues Poetry and Prose, and Wolfson Press. She previously received her MFA in Poetry from Western Michigan University, where she worked as the Layout and Design Editor for New Issues Poetry and Prose and as an Assistant Editor of Poetry for Third Coast. Her poems have appeared in Encore Magazine, Sleet Magazine, Rogue Agent, Thank You for Swallowing, Whale Road Review, The James Franco Review, The Birds We Piled Loosely, and Analecta; and her book reviews have appeared on her website and on The Rumpus. She lives with her husband, their daughter, and three cats. For more, visit www.mckenzielynntozan.com. View all posts by mckenzielynntozan

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