Relaxing Sounds For Sleeping

by Julianne Neely

20160130:   finger biting

20160201:      your bare feet on my wooden floor

20160203:     the colors teal and purple

20160207:     photocopying a picture of your eyes

20160221:      chasing geese

20160229:     taking the vase of hydrangeas for a walk around the apartment

20160304:     you chugging a mountain dew

20160308:     rolling up currency and smoking it

20160309:     a sequestered jury falling in love

20160311:      the world being so small

20160320:  you forcing various fermented grain mash down

20160321:   you forcing various fermented grain mash down

20160322:  you forcing various fermented grain mash down

20160323:      counting teeth in my mouth

20160402:  an umbrella sweeping gone in a downpour

20160405:  you cutting the brake line in my car

20160410:   sticking a fork in an outlet

20160415:      pet name rallying like sweetheart like baby like doll

20160426:  packing bags

20160426:  unpacking bags

20160430:  detangling balls of string

20160509:  Evil Spirits quelling

20160516:   you sucking in your gut

20160517:   begging

20160528:  you reasoning what to call a fly with no wings

20160604:  you pulling all the books off my shelf and judging the covers

20160613:   breaching the fourth wall of life

20160621:   you dragging a payphone into my apartment and inserting coins all night

20160629:  sharpie-ing the white sheets

20160704:  1,2,3

20160709:  curtsying and praying

20160711:   you salting all the drinks in the apartment

20160719:   god, speak

20160724:  you learning the word eyes in twelve different languages

20160728:  black dye squeezing out of a tube

20160802:  you expunging the innards of a stuffed sheep

20160805:  hurling weight

20160808:  you installing a tightrope over my bathtub

20160812:   pushing food around plate

20160814:   checking the apartment for ghosts

20160819:   you placing your hand on my larynx and pulling my words out

20160822:   waiting for the punch-line

20160823:   when I get home it’s no joke

20160824:   a hero losing

20160825:   you forecasting meteorological conditions following the downpour

20160826:   a banana breaching its peel

20160827:   twilight television ratting about god

20160828:   you waving a metal detector over the plates in my wrist

20160829:   you live-streaming ice caps melting

20160830:   love

Julianne Neely, 23, is a Truman Capote Fellow at the Iowa Writer’s Workshop. She has been previously published in Hobart, New Orleans Review, Third Point Press, Random Sample Review, Maudlin House, and more. She dislikes bios but enjoys Twitter. Find her there: @juleneely.