insects crawl along the inside of my frozen back

inside the mind of an imaginary
murderer
inside the heart of an imaginary
bird
inside the worlds of all the imaginary
children
ever born to the cries of the earth
inside a vacuum filled with imaginary
sounds
voices of earlier days
slither and twist into imaginary
knots
the crows murder
in daylight
feed
feed
feed so softly
the sound of beaks
on hard flesh
wakes no imagination
figments float into the vacuum
stop
stop stop
in my stomach, I imagine
there are insects
devour
devour
devour

Snow falls without sound
boys and girls work all day long;
night time, alcohol.

Walking back last night,
numb fingers, last cigarette;
darkness in her room.