Trapped in that cave,

tucked in and charging,

quietly brooding.

carefully optimizing.

Contrary to whatever it is the climbing vines are doing.

Whatever charade they are engaged in.

Whatever jungle it is we ended up getting lost in.

Nightmares and nightshade were laid at your feet a long time ago,

along with so many stories.

at the base of these headstones; shaped like lampshades.

like headstones/

Laid bare here, in this forest of yore.

Although, lacking important context, altogether.

Laid bare, nonetheless.

Short and sweet.

These recurring nightmares,

and the automatic bill-pays

stand perfectly still in the darkness,

so that you might not see them,

so that you might run right into them,

into their waiting mouths.