monster elegy all the doors in our house cracked open like eggs. mice from the fields arrived to the basement with handfuls of salt. what do you gift a monster as it becomes nothing more than shadow? their deaths are not like ours. or, maybe, i presume too much about souls. the monster used to wake me up by dropping bells on my chest. making my phone ring over & over. would write "emergency" on the fogged glas of the bathroom mirrors. i learned to shower with the curtain open. a monster is eager to be a metaphor but i wouldn't allow mine. my illnesses were balls of yarn & barbed candles. the monster was the monster & nothing more. i never saw him but then again neither did anyone else. my secret is i was feeding him. brought turkey bones & canned peas & notebook pages. he swallowed them all. reached claws under every doorway in an attempt to graze my ankles. the monster loved me like pollen loves bee legs. who else here was going to feed his fear organs? & then i loved him. he kept me searching every corner. kept me alive with worry. gave the windows reason to wilt. once, i could swear he held me in the dark of night. outside it was snowing in clumps of nowhere. i blinked. felt his arms. became a stone & went back to sleep. now he is gone. crows come to the porch, each leaving one ear of corn. stray cats form a circle & walk fifty-two times around the house until his spirit is snuffed out. the basement won't hold a single shadow now. the monster is gone. the mice take his bones with him & leave me with only a single jagged tooth.