lights were out. kids were gone. sat silently in the recliner before taking a memorized walk to the couch. sitting back the darkness flickered and i wondered if it was carbon monoxide poisoning or a spiritual visitation. those were the only options. with the softest voice i told the flicker i was in love before crying in shame at the vulgarity of admission. in response the flicker sang to me in poetry as i worried about its lyrical fate. it sounded like a treat and tasted like the sugar that makes me forget the pain of being unwrapped.