smoke rises over the hills
in the dream i am nowhere
i see the blade of seth
and smell my bleeding tooth
everything feels impossible
these fearless words unspoken
                

my eyes open to waxy darkness
my sleeping clothes suddenly rash
i peel them and hurry
towards my new garden
i pace my steps with the sudden
incessant sound of digging
from the backyard
louder than my blood
                

as i open the door
into the humid night
i try not to think
what could be waiting
malicious intruder?
burrowing creature?
heavy-footed ghost?
                

instead all my plants
my lemon trees
my hibiscus
my bougainvillea
their vibrant colors now
ashen and corrupt
apparently long dead
in the prying moonlight
i expected this strangely enough
my world has steadily
shifted into another
to which i am less allergic
but less watchful
                

if i close my eyes
what of this world will be left?
every song i can recall
sounds slower and slower
they warned me of this haunted house
but my bruises
in all the wrong places
my last excuse – i am so grateful
you taught me
to rise over the hills
                

nonplussed and insomniac
i creep back to my room
lit by the greenish glow
of a candle near collapse
to face a wall – its cool surface
noticeable from a few
inches away – i try
to accept my instinct
as i stare into the wall
i can feel something about to happen
something is about to happen
i just have to wait