Your monsters are slick

like movie villians

-they always get the the cool costumes.

They smoke cigarettes

and lurk in dark alleys.

They hide behind trees in forests.

They creep into your houses

and into your daughters’ dolls

to make their heads spin.

They hide in your basements

and wait in the darkest corners

for you to go downstairs.

And

when they are ready

they arch their backs and scurry like crabs

up walls and onto ceilings.

But my monster is different.

She crept in between my thighs

after I had a cocktail

or three

and slipped inside, warm and gentle.

She swam through my veins

until she reached my brain

where she curled up

and now the two of us

sleep together

and wake together

and think

and act

and stay

together

even in the sunlight.