Bombus Press

Hollowing

I had nightmares where I
danced, barefoot, to the

muted sound of a radio
that hummed like it lived

next door. I felt every
shaking inch of my skin

and caught shards of
nighttime, in the valleys

of my fingers. I was closed
and open like any true

wild thing. heading always
out and always in.

interminably trapped and
endlessly free. I saw the

dark of the night and I
wanted it. desire for a

dark thing was a dark thing
in me. I found vestiges of

light when I pulled up the
floorboards, and I burnt my

palms raw just trying to
contain it.