by Regis Boff

He knew
I wasn’t going to tell.
I wrapped him in brown paper
and went home
and hid him,
after he raped me.
He was pleased.
He climbs on me at night.
We do bug things.
He scares me again
but now in whispers
his voice in mean humming pitches
like warm August night locusts.
I am forgotten.
But safe.
At breakfast,
across the table from me,
he asks, “So what shall we do today?
So casually. I am confused.
My life with him is beginning.
His claw touches my hand,
He is pleased.
My deceit holds no estate in him.
I am vanished into what has hurt me.
Life forbids that I feel nothing at all.
My life might be very long.


PUBLISHED: December 29, 2016
FILED UNDER: Unnoticed in Clever Worlds