Beneath the Grates
I am the one beneath the grates
as you walk by foot step
by foot and jean or dress wearing,
waiting to be opened by the slit.
But either way you walk by
and I can't see your face but I know you.
I am the thing that sees you
when you don't think you are being seen.
I hear you marching to the beat
of your own heart rhythm.
Matching the marching,
like the way you move
your hips under sheets
wet with heat
and not sad at all
with the day.
Marie Kilroy has recently been published in the Red Wolf Journal, Lummox Press, and East Coast Literary Review. She graduated from the University of Mary Washington with a B.A. in English. She lives in New York City.