“I’m the thing monsters have nightmares about.”
– Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Do monsters dream? A swirl of stakes
and garlic and revealing mirrors and
silver bullets? Are talons sharpened on
the wool of counted sheep? Howl at that
dark bloody moon, and find yourself
at midnight center, bled to sky. Which
of us is the real monster in this way
-ward place? You? The moon? Or I?
Prompted by Toads.