Dim Lights

dim lights, thick smoke, and loud, loud music.
bourbon heavy on my lips.
the bass builds to a crescendo, covering me in dark silks.
hush now, the streetlight croons,
your eyes are tired with night fever.
rain soaks the power lines.
listless and slow, lurid and spectral like a shadow i am sleepwalking.
sleep, waking, woeful; if i leave my limbs and lungs i will crumble
swiftly into you.



MARIKA BROOKS is a Toronto-based writer whose interests are rooted in post-modernity. Identities in crisis, experiences and manifestations of trauma, and figures of abjection are particularly fascinating elements of her writing and research. She is currently completing her M.A. in literatures of modernity at Ryerson University. Check out her blog.


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