Peacelessly, I wait.
They pull their eyes
over my eyes.
I fold my hands,
echo the words,
My heart curls
into itself. My
They speak in
a dead language
as I strain to
my hands ache.
Words crawl up the wall like spiders,
unsure of meaning or destination
for hours while the sun creeps over
the rim of the sky until their skin
darkens to the same shade. Are they
happy? They could stretch out
on the grass and watch the clouds
soar and shift form in the silence.
They could soak up one another’s light.
The candle in the corner
of the room flickers and
casts our shadows dancing
spread across the wall.
The black bars surrounding
the candle so imprison
our shadows as I melt
like wax, light burning
out with you.
They say the best lies have bits of truth.
When my parents asked me the name
of my new friend, I told them “Laura”
because she is a friend, and of course
you are not Laura, but my throat
tightened when I went to say your name,
and I feared that they would know
by the light in my eyes and the smile
curving at my lips without my knowledge,
and the flush in my cheeks,
this most profound name
which I must protect.
He keeps us in
his dirty drawers
like little bits
You never know
what you’ll find
among glass and