about the author

Lindsey Webb is a student at Brigham Young University in Utah. Her work has been published in SOFTBLOW, ILK Journal, likewise folio, and elsewhere.


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Without a strong sense of someone else

Lindsey Webb



Many dogs crawl in by the windows when I put my face to your shirt long after you’re asleep. Nothing can wake you when you’re gone, not the bells, not the muezzin, not the clock across the river, not the river. In every city I turn to paper against your chest. Before you woke one morning I cut you with my teeth like an apple and you bled a strange dye. That afternoon you asked me why you dreamed about the airport. The pilots all sang the Agnus Dei, landed in the river like ash.





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