i met victor frankenstein in a dream
& i made him cry when i
asked him what the meaning
of life was
he stood before me naked
with tears running down
his body
we were in the arctic
drinking whiskey with
ice from the ground
& small cherries we’d
spit the pits out into
our palms
& he asked me about
god & i told him
i thought i was looking
at him until i saw him
spit that cherry pit out
& i told him no god
would throw away life
& he went to slap me
but missed like a coward
a pussy with his back turned
to me
he walked back into the
arctic fog & i was left
holding my cherries
looking for a place to
plant them
hide & seek
we hid in attics with our hands
tied behind our backs
& felt the world watching us
when the knock on the door came
“where are you? are you in there?”
i buried my mouth in your shoulder
& we did not make a sound
because our lives were at stake
& costly moves make for fools
we were told to get out & that
they’d found us up there a long time ago
but we knew we’d be safe in the dark
we learned that hiding away
in the attics when they tell you
the game is over means more
to you than it does to them
& when we were alone up there
i did not feel afraid like normal
but able to see in the dark with
your eyes lighting the way for
me to find my way back to you
Nick Soluri is an undergraduate at Union College in New York. His words have appeared in Occulum, Albany Poets, The Slag Review, Boston Accent, Heroin Chic Magazine, The Smoky Blue Literary and Arts Magazine, and others. His social media links are all @nerkcelery