A warm, familliar empty
fills the home as they sleep.
And the sound of Their claws
from across the tile floor
(as from the inside of my belly)
warn me that this is the last moment.
That all I must do to bar Their ghosts from my breath is follow my family to the Dreaming.
Far simpler a thing
to physically eviscerate this plague from my stomach,
to sever the member;
than to lose that time
I weep to God
to amputate my grip and
appropriate my instincts.
"Please take it away from me-
I need something to hold on to."
Let me wall myself in the cask of this slumber.
Let the feelers of sleep caress me in shadow.
Let me avoid the *throbbing* dead
of this haunted verile.