by Mikki Aronoff
I Fell Asleep in an Apricot Orchard
Fruit bats descended
Believing me sweet.
Near my mouth
They kissed me,
Their tiny teeth
Pricking plump flesh:
Little bat tongues
Tasting, searching
For the most delicious
Place. Night
Passed the way nights
Do— slow and dark
Like syrup in autumn.
I woke at first light
Bitten. Bleeding a little
Everywhere.
Did they enjoy
Their small feast?
I needed to know:
Why did I still remain—
Was I not Desirable?
How we gorged,
A high-pitched voice squeaked,
Somewhere near my ear,
Yet you were More.
But how was I? I wondered.
The reply: You were well-loved.
Frankie Drayus writes in Los Angeles. Her short story recently won Honorable Mention in Writer’s Digest. Her work appears many places including Ilanot Review (with video), Poet Lore, Poemeleon, Ninth Letter, diode, and ART/LIFE (which published her poem embedded in collage art). Occasionally she facilitates workshops at Beyond Baroque, is a past co-curator of THE THIRD AREA, a proud repeat survivor of the 3:15 Experiment, and a recent survivor of breast cancer.
Mikki Aronoff advocates for animals and scribbles and scrawls away in New Mexico. Her poetry and prose have been nominated for Pushcart, Best of the Net, Best Small Fictions, Best American Short Stories, and Best Microfiction, with stories appearing in Best Microfiction 2024 and Best Small Fictions 2024.