in the basement aisles the shelves were worn
and the silverfish sucked their dusty books
the place was invisible just for me

I stood naked and my mouth was open
uncomfortable but assured
surrounded -- the vampire and the librarian

both were running towards the middle
reaching like they knew -- licking their lips
do they both seek the same sentiment

pointing my face toward one and my hand toward the other
I squeezed my easy knees together
I sunk my toes into the carpet

soon so close I was afraid -- susceptible
I remember I fell, they dove like they were dying
rising it surprised me they were gone

up from the carpet, wiping crumbs off my skin
and out from the books came a voice
it told me, “lay back down -- stay in your place,”
it told me insistently, “wait.”
2003