corpse candles & velvet dinner

at night the roads around our house
fill with corpse candles. 
you can never see them & so i pretend
i do not see them either. when you fall asleep though
i go out to witness. each light is different.
some the size of fireflies & others 
like burning soccer balls. the legend goes
that each represents a death. a ghost
holding up a candle just behind the veil.
i try to talk to them. sometimes they put a veil
on me & i wander barefoot through the corn. 
the foxes & the deer walk on two legs. 
i wish my life were smaller. contained to 
a candle or maybe just a graveyard.
instead, my life spreads out. there are phones 
that dance. letters with teeth inside.
i draw blood & send it to the hungry place.
never manage to eat enough. the corpse candles 
move slowly. on the lushest nights,
almost like a waltz. i sway with them.
once, starving, i went out & the corpses fed me.
blindfolded, i ate with my hands. velvet texture.
the feasts of the dead. i heard their voices.
each light, a little mouse hole. they gave me
no answers. instead they handed me 
a candle & told me to walk with them.
i blended in. almost stayed. would they notice
one body among dead? instead, i went home.
i had missed you & the dogs. it was so bright
that night that the windows glowed like midday.
the ghosts coming to witness us. washed my face.
i stood bare in the shower before turning it on.