The Insect
Like the insect rustling across my blanket,
Your memory spooked me from sleep.
And I shook, holding my pillow like a weapon,
Keeping watch in the dark.
I am alone now,
With books as bedtime companions.
I hand feed myself when necessary,
Nursing back the appetites you took when you left.
The insects gone, it dissolved into the dark,
Oblivious to the damage its entrance provoked.
I thought I’d left this fear behind,
Filed away with all those other childhood irrationalities.
But now when I dream, you hold me,
and your kisses shake me awake into dangers I never anticipated.
Leave the light on love.
I vacate the bed in favor of a more naïve companion.
Curling into the couch, I give in to your ghost.
This room is yours. Take it.
I acquiesce.