inside a glass
bulb. Passing her days
trying to move when it's up
to her waist. A tiny silt

turned mountain in
size. When did the world
tilt /climb up to her thighs? When
did it fall through so

fast? When did a sandbox
of toys turn a vast prison? And
the floor risen up to the neck? All in
a sliver, a glowing red speck. Grit

stuck in her teeth spilling
into her nose. Filling
her nostrils and inside her
clothes. Growing hives on

her arms like wasps spawn
on the branch of a tree. She'll not  
breathe. It'll swallow her whole
as it buckles her knees.