Kim Stoll


Anna’s been telling lies. Been gagging on air, puking up someone else’s medication. Anna’s been rain on the mountains lately, plotless and wrong. Should maybe not wear a dress if she’s gonna sit like that, pulling legs off of Daddy Longlegs. Anna’s eaten several small meals throughout the day instead of three big ones like she read she should. She’s been rating her recent transaction on Amazon. Four stars. Five stars. One. Anna’s been in your bed, using your Netflix account. She’s been searching for herself on Google, searching aliens and angels and if it’s possible she is one But wouldn’t I know if I was?


Anna lets the rats bite her cheekbones and nose. Patina burnt into her thighs with hot iron. She digs needle under her skin, pulls the thread. Anna recreates herself. A whole new Anna. A horror movie Anna, back from the grave. Got blood in the bathtub, she’s sorry. Cotton balls soak in alcohol and Anna draws the bed sheets up to her chin. Water snakes, scales cherry blossom and paisley. Every night a new kind of nightmare. The worst when she dreams Sylys, dreams her mouth sewn to his skin. Worst when she wakes and finds herself still herself, not at all bound to him.


Kim Stoll was born and raised along the muddy banks of the Perkiomen Creek in Collegeville, Pennsylvania. She is currently an MFA candidate in poetry at the University of Arizona where is she trying to stay hydrated. Every month, in the light of the full moon she wanders out into the desert wilderness in search of, she’s not sure what. She cannot help her animal self. Her work has recently appeared in Alice Blue Review, Permafrost, plain china, and Stone Highway.