Eric Cline

Semi-Consciousness
​
he swam through
concrete sound. his
hands throbbed at the edge
of the canal, moonlight
hitched to the black-and-
white beat of his temple.
silent waters corkscrewed
through his arms and feet,
tangled fronds numb to
elm and skull. finally, his
eyes unlocked. it had only

been a bad dream, a
reflection of
willow and old stars.


*
King, Stephen. It. 1986. Scribner Book Company, 2016. P. 264.