MURMURS: LARYALEE FRASER

Sometimes, when evening
settles down, creaking against
her bedroom walls

his whispers float up
from her pillow.

She feels them flutter against
her mind, dispersing
warm-tinctured memories
into the fissures
where loneliness hides.
Patiently, she waits to cross
night's thick-curtained threshold

for only in dreams
can she reply.