"The Body Is A Temporary Dwelling" by Alannah Hensley

In the dream / I’m all hallways / windows where the doors should be / behind distorted glass /

memories / all my shit / got miscoded / strobe light nervous system / blinking Christmas light

response / lighthouse with a laser for an eye / someone came in / turned all the lights on / left them

on for 20 years / the light bill came due / like an apocalypse / She was with me / in the last hallway

/ the one with the door / I thought I knew then what was in there / that was only the beginning / of

understanding / how the door got there / and why darkness leaked out the sides of it / like a river /

trying to break down the other side / god help me I can’t even look at it / anymore / god it makes

me want to die / god / my heart is a shadow / falling over an open door /

Alannah Hensley (she/her) is a queer poet from Arkansas. She lives in Washington D.C. and is a poetry reader for Mudroom Mag. Her work has appeared in Gulf Coast, Foglifter, and elsewhere.