prose poetry and fiction

on a happy note

the last of them died
about a month ago
while you puffed your chest
for gentler men /
/ you let out a little gasp
into your hand
haloing your body
frozen in time
you break open the chest
holding the momento
under your tongue
and you see what it has ravaged
you gaze upon the moon
and, god forbid,
she looks right back at you
devouring everything
with that crescent-shaped smile
mother warned you about