THE RAVEN REVIEW
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  • Home
  • About
    • Who We Are
    • FAQ
  • Submit
  • Current Issue
  • Archive
    • Volume I >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume II >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume III >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume IV >
      • Issue I

Fever Dream

by Zoe Cunniffe
you came back with brand new eyes,
bobbing bloodless beneath your skull.
i stretched out my hands in the boiling heat,
thread my fingers through your hair.
you used to be saltwater: splashing,
seeping, soaking. now you’re golden 
like a gut-punch, edges melting, 
seams splitting, coiling around me 
like steam. you are a heat wave and a human, 
a flame i can’t fan.
you used to be silk and distance, 
the creak of a sunrise, untouchable. 
you used to creep into my dreamland, 
and now the sheets are sweat-stained, 
and you are a fever dream: noxious, blazing, 
and impossible to miss.

Zoe Cunniffe is a poet and singer-songwriter from Washington, DC. She has previously been published in literary journals such as Meniscus and The Showbear Family Circus.