There are bugs in the walls Turn the lights out And I can hear them

I sit before the stove I saw one there Yesterday

There are bugs in the code Just beyond the test cases I can feel them

I wrote one up yesterday And hit send They tell me that one was new

Forty more hours In the space of several thousand Yes that will be the tipping point

Walk a mile in her shoes Abs split in two Stitches pulling One ovary twisted

Don’t lift more than 15 lbs Thank goodness The baby is 12

Rest, take your time But you are needed on call

Sit through the night While baby doesn’t sleep And return to work on Monday

Shadows crept long across the ground and the fire crackled. Silence filled the space between my eyes.

You hadn’t said anything. Came to the door and asserted without words that I was yours. And I hadn’t protested. Couldn’t even bring myself to meet your gaze.

And that was hours ago. I gathered my will and lifted my chin. I couldn’t tell you whether it was second or hours. Chasing each tendril of fear, and teasing it back into the crucible.

I found the steel toes of your boots. Analyzed the jeans, worn but passable. A leather jacket against the chill. You had offered it and I rejected - I might regret that now.

I took in the worn skin, a man of use. The lines of your face. Hard but not unkind. Irises the color of flint. And as I looked in your eyes, I saw my future go up in flames. I did not resist.

I forget how dark the water is early in the morning. It comes with the cold, that cold that seeps first through the skin. Put it out of mind. Breath, calm, slow, full.

Whoosh, slosh, sight, pull. Whoosh, slosh, sight, pull, breath.

Surely, I can touch ground. Damn, not yet. This lost the air of “casual morning swim” some yards back. No, some hundred yards if you were honest.

Whoosh, sight, slosh, pull. Slosh, pull, sight. Whoosh, whoosh, breath, damn it.

Fingers brush slime, weeds… fish… bottom. Yes, the last. A struggle upright. The world shifts and my eyes missed the memo. Vision still swimming.

Knee deep. It sounded shallow - until you try to run through it. A clock ticking behind your eyes. Counting to the hour. Until you need to lift each foot, or drag them.

Tips and toes, through the sand to shore.

One foot in front of the other The sun beats down One foot in front of the other My lips taste of salt And my skin complains of friction One foot in front of the other One mile goes into another I left my ability to compute fractions Somewhere down the last hill One foot in front of the other The well was low when I started Kept refilling from it with disregard Drink the last sandy drips Now we dig

Cold, removed, holding back tears This last night my baby in her crib Disguised terror a what if Unknown, each step as you grow Upright and reversed The good mother the failure

Eyes rove not so much windows But a lens in the night Left open in a tracery of light Motion capture the frequencies of life Swept along rides the wave An electric single soul