Grown-up Monsters

by Regina Solomond

At eight I outgrew the fear of
Spirits waiting in the shadows
Distorted faces outside dark windows

                                                Roses are red

And snatching hands beneath basement steps.
I slept without my rabbit doll and nightlight.

                                                Bruises are blue

At twenty-four I met you on the subway with your
Combed hair, pressed suit, suave smile
And fell under your spell.

                                            My childhood nightmares

I forgot that sirens are beautiful
Until I was already drowning.

                                            Incarnate in you

A Merciless Summer

by Regina Solomond

That summer smelled like burning ants.

Father was full of tubes,
his face a skeleton’s smile.
Mother lived each day like a shopping list,
checking off each item dutifully.

I held the magnifying glass
with the hand of a god.
The ants never had a chance.