by Kelly Lynn
you killed her as she slept
she lay beside you
in Superman boxers she bought on clearance
awoken and frozen
with her back turned to the red flag
the warning light
of a computer in sleep mode
as night shift workers left their homes
their headlights dragging against the closet door
she lay beside you
her head resting on a pillow you stole
from the living room
since you only had one without a case
and she mumbled with her eyes closed rubbing her knees against the intruder
shifting as if she still dreamed peacefully beneath the thin navy sheets your mother bought
she lay beside you
trying to bury her head in your chest
wishing it nothing but a cruel hallucination as you devoured her trust
less self control than a rabid dog with her left upon your fingers
repressing her feelings of inadequacy beneath your touch
and letting her self-deprecation fester beside you