I Dreamt of you Last Night

Para–

In my childhood kitchen
with the bright yellow walls,
white linoleum counters, under
flickering fluorescence,
head propped up on hands by the rice
the way I used to watch my mother cook,

I dreamt of you last night
and the two before

and woke up with that hunger,
the ache of waiting to eat
making hoarse my voice,
tongue lashing back
at an imperceptible target—
your moving goalpost
and you,
my most persistent haunts.

I wrote a horror story about you
and posted it online
like it was made up.