By Amy Thomson


Cirrus elephants
dance in blue.
Green sprinkled toffee
melts down Nevada’s chest.


Night pulls off her
hot, sticky blanket,
Pours glittering, navy
syrup on top.


Outside the neon buzz,
the coyote’s lullaby
sings her to sleep,
somewhere softer.


Quiet dreams float
behind her heavy eyes.
A life of peace, weary from
the infected abscess on her leg.


Oozing tears of girls
stripped of innocence.
Gushing bile
of hungry mites.


Alcohol soaked,
her leg burns with
empty dreams and
wicked sneers.


Infection spreads,
clawing flesh
into flashy
human traps.


Shhh, sleep,
whispers Night.