After Dark
Neon lights penetrate into the curtains and shed a colorful blast on the darkest of canvas. Leftover food scattered all over the ground. Random newspapers crumbled into a ball at the corner of the room, with dead cockroaches’ legs sticking out. The stained blanket leaks a smell that suggests a combination of pickles and licorice. We wrap that blanket around our naked bodies to withstand this lingering night.
In your iris, I catch a glimpse
of a crimson hell
awaiting in soft
moonlight.
Flies rest on our eyelashes, probably laying eggs as well. As we blink, they fly off and kiss every wasted part of you and me. A long-standing peace breaks the moment you crash the fly on my face. Its black guts spill and spatters on my filthy strands of hair. Perhaps there is a power shortage because all lights and colors are withdrawn since the last sight of you leaning close to me.
“Thank you.”
I wish you felt my voice in the air.
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