Sucubus Poem by Andrew Nawroski

Holding a war heroes Knife
close you Laugh in my ear
and enter my body through my side
moving upward to the medial pre-optic area
then steal my very soul
you hide it in the fridge
rumbling like a nuclear dialysis machine
along side some sausages
it waits solitary
changing the kitchen.

After two weeks
with Solvang hound of Satan
you call again
slip gently through my side
snaking backwards
this time to the hippocampus and temporal lobe
again you steal my newly regained soul
then hide it behind the curtains
they swish forward
moving like torn dancing parachutes
or wind blown crinoline frocks
I staple them down
to the window frames.

This time after four days
you return with twenty four priests
through my naval this time
shooting like an express train
up to my inferior collicus
and steal my regained soul
this time hiding it in the wall cavity
staples fly from window frames
curtains become rigid like starched collars
and the walls recede backward
I press my ear to the wall
trying to listen for my soul
Begging for it to return
nothing
I press my eye against the flat surface
hoping to see it
all I see is people filled rooms.

It comes every night now
slowly slipping in
through my side
upwards to steal my soul.