viii. most

what I remember is
the lizards scuttling haphazardly
across counters and floorboards
the dust on fire, suspended in midair
as my heart

I checked the locks three, then four times
certain terror came in the form
of booming bass
and stumbling, gold-painted men
their tip buckets and pot bellies full

searing July melted into a bitter new year
like me and she exposed
critters sought refuge in the form of a small shotgun on Music Street
small things, we scatter silently
racing at walls, begging for cracks
to slip between
fear like copper on the tongue
regret a fluorescent buzzing, constant

feebly clutching a broom, I batted and shrieked my way to the open door
the sweeps like a skipping record
or broken heart
a quick two then one
neither brave nor certain + that remains true. 
this skin a speckled road map
recklessness and high heeled acrobatics merging, drawing thick lines
into kneecaps
jagged stripes like burnt tire across
a soft belly
pit stops of apartments + longing
along the route
and a joyful girl's coos my soundtrack

what I remember is the freedom + chaos
what you remember is me