Untitled #8
It happens most when you’re not around
When bugs lazily bump into my windows
Their small skeletons gently shattering in moonlight
Pools of light gather around my ankles
When I dream of giants and fire
My fingers get lost in an endless search for your smell
While my back arches
And my skin buckles
My dreams buzz so violently against my skull
Your hands are not there to strangle them back into calm submission
I am left to wrestle with the hands of midnight
Dark claws that avoid my kisses
Taking refuge
In empty spaces
I can never fill
Melissa Espinoza is currently a graduate student at NMSU, studying literature with a focus in surrealism and magical realism. She also has an interest in Chicanx and Mexican fiction. While her focus lies in literary critique and exploration, she also enjoys writing poetry in her spare time. Instagram: @pints_of_hell
Thin Air Magazine 