Alone

by John L. Swainston

I no longer sleep alone.
It is a strange feeling
knowing that there is
someone else in my bed.

Two nights ago, she was
playful.
She planted a hickey on my
thigh.
Last night it was on my
stomach.

You see there is a spider in
my bed.
Woke up when she strolled across
my face.
I am her midnight snack.
Murder on my mind.
Solved by relocation to the
backyard.

Bat food – I hope.