Charred Bed-Bugs

there were girls standing all around me in a clearing, there was a huge fire.

it felt like the ending of a film, just before the isle lights flicker on.

they sing a theme-song that haunts me in the moments between

lights-out and first light. a haze is cast over an emptying stadium.

fluttering patterns are really blackened-blue fireflies trampled by sneakers.

i keep on walking. howling at the moon, i feel close to my home tonight…

lying still in the morning before the other girls wake up,

i stair at a sleeping friend, admire her freckled nose.

she remains unaware that, while spending summers

sharing rooms with me most mornings were spent exactly like this…

locked in a fog of confusing boundaries between

your hairbrush

my comforter

your perfume

my shoes

your diary

my stuffed animals…


One thought on “Charred Bed-Bugs

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