inviting hitchhikers over for milk and cookies,
their smell stays long after they are gone,
stuck on our white couches and matching cardigans.
The carpet gets soggy as the warm rain keeps us awake
underneath the bridge and crystal chandelier.
The walls blow away when the bomb explodes during prayer time.
It scares the puppies each time.
The screaming as the water rises, entering the gaping mouths…
it all gives me nightmares.
I have nothing to say to them,
We are out of milk and cookies.