Sleep Paralysis | Kathy Goodkin

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Kathy Goodkin's poems and criticism have appeared in Denver Quarterly, RHINO, Redivider, Josephine Quarterly, and elsewhere. She lives in North Carolina, and you can find her online at





Then nothing called us on the phone.

We watched a blue-lit window on a dark back road.

In this time and place my outsides are buried (by accident) under a tree.

We lay the rest of ourselves on the floor and look up at the molding.

We watch headlights make a name on the ceiling.

We don’t say it out loud, or we can’t, or you do once and everything stops ticking.

For every color I can move across the sky with one hand, ten more won’t budge.