fear of itching or the insects that cause itching If I could hear it now, I could dream of it — a hurly-burly bug Gone mad against the gauzy curtain. Rain on a tin roof; Lightning became a fear to leave unnamed. The day fomented torment, and something whispered elegies Before the bath waters parted their oatmeal waves And allowed a leg of squealing welts inside the healing wet. Love condensed itself to a misted fist. Kisses hurt. Circling bites bloomed in hellfire, blazed to the inner Lung, to skin that wept the poison outward.
Deborah Ager Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
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