searching for something i can't hear, see, smell, touch or taste.
because in every glistening tassel, i sense your presence.
your silver linings carry me to my sweet sanctuary, where i dream that for once i wake up alone.
but each morning i thrash awake to the vision of you crawling under my skin,
taking your time as you roam,
weaving around my bones in search of a new home.
flicker, blink, bang,
your faint scent fuels my early exasperation.
now i'll have to watch my stride
on what you've made a slip and slide.
God help me.
- a poem about, or a message to, the slug on my floor