nightly routine:
stars come out / energy fades
brain winds down / thoughts land in a gutter
lights go out.
chiming fills my ears forever / because despite everything
she still has to answer the call.
she usually does
I watch her through a screen.
webcam shows every imperfection.
gone are the days of USB-port orbs you straddle
on your monitor;
no.
her laptop shows high definition.
it connects the two of us as if we were in the same room.
I soak up every luscious curve and soft-edged freckle.
even the conversation she's having--
reflected in her glasses.
her love is fleeting.
impersonal. ill tempered. far sighted and white hot like a burning star
just like her.
they're both spoiled.
in reality: I was the spoiled one.
fawned over / praised / eaten up by her honey colored eyes and red lips
then I spoiled
watching her.
I went rotten in and out
silently with shallow breaths and a green fire in my belly.
the sickly beast corroded.
it hollowed me out
made me crave more until I absorbed her.
I absorbed her and lost myself.
I ate up and tried to become my best friend, my lover, my queen.
but in the silence behind the hum of my computer, I wonder.
did she forget me?
did her consciousness slip so far
that she forgot there was someone watching her?
spending time with her?
I almost ask. then she turns to me and my voice box melts.
maybe I'll take the risk tomorrow.
but maybe the star and it’s white hot heat will finally explode
and I won’t have to ask at all.
Bio:
Alyson lives in Maryland where she got married, had her daughter, and began her writing journey. She has appeared in Altered Reality Magazine and (mac)ro(mic). You can find her on twitter @rudexvirus1