kfc midnight

you fed me mashed potatoes 
with a spork in the back seat
of your mouth.
chicken skin peeling off 
my face. we were in gettysburg 
looking for dead men. in so many ways
the first part of my life 
was just a quest for dead men.
their bones & their ghosts.
we took pictures of battlefields
scouring for shadows & orbs.
the whole time i was thinking
about marriage & how i was
so ready to be a spoonful.
i was sixteen & mosquitoes 
always found me first in a crowd.
crowns & bracelets of bites.
other lovers were there too.
speaking to the dark as if it were
a father. i never wanted
to leave the parking lot. 
drive through window. your 
bare feet on the dashboard.
"did you see that?" you asked.
you were looking off 
at the field across from the neon 
parking lot. "yes," i promised
even though i didn't see anything.
i didn't eat more that night.
i left you to finish my plastic bowl
even though i was still hungry.