sleeping bag full of candlesticks i lug my nighttime over my shoulder. there are children gathered again in the basement. they eat fruit snacks & have a seance for a dead rabbit. the rabbit says, "we should light a fire." so we do. me & the children. they all have my eyes. i know i am going organism all over again. clementines rolling through pastures. trees full of shoelaces. i am the one who brings the candles. gifts from ghost bees. everyone's mother in sleeping in their bell jar. it is only us. only the licorice sky. each of us with a candle. little galaxy. flickering spirit. flies come to die at our feet. we are the baby teeth & the tall tale told backwards. the fire comes like a hole in the night. flames that ask for more & more bedframes. lampshades & longjohns. we feet the fire to keep it alive. brother or father. a fire is always what we lack. vacancies without enough room for luggage. i only brought with me the candlesticks. chew wax in my hunger. the backyard stretches soccer field after soccer field away from the porch. the children are dust. the children are no where. it is ust me & the rabbit who says, "you are not anymore" & i know. i know.