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that she can't quite place
she puts upon it
and pushing through
into thick beads of sweat
of unmaintaine
d electricals
of cheap insulation
Or does she taste it
of cutting corners
and missing fire alarms- and
the lancing needles of torment
In the back of her throat
the sick- queasy terror
unenforced safety regulations
Do you see it
she can feel the fastenings
to force it down- trying to free
that tells her she knows
creeping under the door
to your bedroom as you sleep
exactly what is coming
the burning coals of its eyes
regarding you in the
her unseen parents
