from YOU ARE ONE OF THEM
[IN THE DREAM] the glass was green, not blue;
the moon struck against the teeth making them glow
like bulbs. You arrived late to the back-
yard, started tearing stars down from between tree branches.
I thought: Whatever I do not feed does not
exist. We called it was the error of light.
Not everything can be panic. The burning know that
[IʼD DIG A RIVER JUST TO DROWN YOU]
in it. You lay on the floor counting the ceiling fanʼs
rotations. I thought about the teeth
of all the people I had loved. You were talking to yourself
in the hotel bathroom. In the movie, he took a hammer
and swung it by the side of his hip. She picked the lock
to the gate of the swimming pool. You blew into my mouth
as a joke. I wasnʼt dead
[WHAT KIND OF A GENIUS] tries to burn
night down? The moon was elsewhere.
The tongue was split apart from the center.
I had two nights in me, each I fed &
fed. I fed each hard to exclude you. You
pressed your mouth to the phone
[WHO READ THE POSTCARD] on the wall? Who claimed
night’s fraudulent quality? I am sick of the sunʼs
excuses. You were in the background of the picture. The
light was bouncing off the swimming pool and onto your face.
And then, when everybody leaves, they are gone, and so
what? A body gets up from the bed. It washes its shirt in the sink
[NIGHT WONʼT CATCH FIRE] or will. Your t-shirt smelled like dirt.
The body was burned up in the accident. I am alive
with feeling the further you move away from me.
There are lots of people living. You are one of them
Maureen McHugh lives & writes in Tucson, AZ. Her poems have previously appeared in web Conjunctions, Third Coast, PANK, elimae, kill author, and -Anti. She co-edits The Destroyer.