A Perfect Space

_{Photo by Kleigh Balugo}

By Maegan Smith

I’ll shove my life in a box,
And close my eyes.
Stay warm, dry.
Let it hang,

In the air.

A little box,
Where stars glow but don’t burn,
Voices ride the blades of a fan,
Oh, how I yearned

For air.

No longer will footsteps
Break my night,
Or will the sound
Of paper give way to
The hole in the door
Where vermin scurry through
While I cover my head
With dust-caked curtains and
Prayer.

My little box is finally here.
Where the dog sleeps and yawns
And a moth dies a glorious and fiery death.
Where my life finally goes to rest
And I am not afraid to stretch and move

The air.