Lost Child

it's summer and
I lay motionless.

the dogs are barking again,
howling and bending their pitch,
great snapping jaws opening wide
to prey upon carnal memory.

it makes animals of us,
the way rough hands part
prepubescent thighs,
tiny fists pounding on
sweatslick skin, and a
heartbeat that screams
no,
       no,
              no,
with every thrust.

when enough blood has been
spilled, the dogs grow bored,
licking their jaws, teeth twisting
and gnashing, until I can hear
that calm whisper,
"I'll kill you if you ever tell".

in the distance, the dogs are
silent. the cicadas take up their
cadence, and I lay motionless.

it's not fair of me to forget, but
somewhere in those moments
there was a song, and
I've forgotten all the words.