Change of State by Laurie Kolp After the blackout, I stand and scrape stones from my knees uncovering pinpricks of blood beneath wine-splotched tattoos then slide through tear-smudged glass to vacuous kitchen. Have I been here before? Wet paper towels daub the filth away stop, my throbbing body. A washcloth placed upon my fevered forehead— my mother, perhaps? You see, I left my lover this morning. Everything I thought I ever knew about truth suddenly cracked like frozen tree limbs. As fast as one cold snap, frost that bites the fragile dead. Like me. Gyroscope Review 14 !