milk-tales

put them under a pillow at night

these two showing each other their respective worlds 

there was someone in the dark

looking at us

we couldn’t see who it was

the deer-kind’s vigil 

getting life advice from a badly potted flower 

some ghosts you can’t keep out

a safe enough place to sleep, in someone else’s bones 

gloves that become your hands

it might have been better than choking up frogs and snakes—