when the last light is out,
when all the shadows coalesce
to form a path of quiet in the dark,

i haunt the halls better than any ghost,
i hold shadows dear more than most.

only in that twilight i let my hunger roam,
appetite too large for the crevices of a wakeful home.

i wish you weren't scared of my famine,
i wish you would learn how to eat me
with something
other
than
a
knife.

i would hand you a scalloped dessert spoon,
and you could pry my shell open,
like the kitchens biggest prize.