Melinda Fay



trots across my soul

dangling my illusions from her jaws

like a newborn lamb


she gnaws her way

through my dreams

nightwalking behind me

along the icy edges of oblivion



in the white ash of my memory

she uncorks

my bottles of fear

strewing the contents

in the dirt

like a streak of vomit across the night sky



beckons me

look closer


i see

myself a prisoner

in 44 broken mirrors

each shard

mocks bits of me

makes a simulacrum of me


i stumble backwards and fall

to the other side of the night

and land impaled

on frozen pieces of coyote laughter


she taunts me


she's daring me

to dance


my cage of silver bones


      from Tribes Issue 4