sewer crocodile love poem

i lift the manhole cover
like the lid of a garbanzo bean can.
i have an affinity for legends
& the creatures inside them.
the first time i heard a story
about sewer crocodiles i was small.
i developed a fear of being eaten
while i was sitting in the tub.
a monster crawling up through
the pipes & into the tiny room. 
i used to hope to be devoured
in one big bite. an instant darkness. instead, 
one day a terror came &
he did not have scales or eyes.
his hands made birds under my skin.
i still have to feed them seeds 
whenever i am lonely. when he was done
he left the door open & the steam
i had hide behind dissapeared.
after, i came to not fear a story animal. 
in fact, craved the crocodile. 
i sought him. crawling into the pipes
with pockets full of sunflower seeds.
an altar in every throat i could find.
i have still never met a sewer crocodile
but i have not given up.
still, when done feeding my birds,
i collect anything i think they might
enjoy & sneak away to a good entrance.
bring no flashlight or even my phone.
just my skeleton & my deepest hunger
to burrow inside a story. 
when i meet him i might just let him
swallow me whole.