|
When we have a good tussle (lights on), we both sleep better.
Afterward, I always drift into a deep, drunken sleep that I wouldn't
wake from willingly.
She, on the other hand, is always up and down the carpeted stairs
adjusting things we knocked over or planning some grandiose
scheme for a better life by way of imagined parlor or botanical garden.
It's always her who sees a woman corner-eyed passing
through the unlit kitchen or silhouetted in porch light
just to be gone a moment later.
She'll wake me in a stupor claiming she saw a lady
with a face likened to a clay bust that was never finished.
That is all nonsense, of course, just her night-follies.
She harbors a deep suspicion of my youth and remembers things
I scarcely recall as more than flirts and teases.
I'll hear a shriek; I'll go to her.
There she'll stand weak-kneed pointing
at nothing down the hallway.
We’ll discuss it for too long (lights off), and I’ll be up till the birds caw.
Glancing at a coat or chair-back like these things are really some lady
just watching me. Staring at me with a satisfied look on her non-face
knowing that her work is finished here.
|
|
|
|
|
|

Erric Emerson is a poet residing in Philadelphia, PA. His work has appeared in Collage,
Neon, Gingerbread House, Control, Mead, and Prairie Margins. He is the former Co-Editor of Poetry for Duende literary journal. His forthcoming short story Wednesday
will be published in the newest issue of Blood Moon Rising in April of 2016.
The authors published at HelloHorror retain all rights to
their work. For permission to quote from a particular piece, or to reprint,
contact the editors who will forward the request.
All content on the web site is protected under copyright law.
|
|
|