What could I offer you
that would drag you
from this cardboard crypt
you’ve contaminated with your presence?
And up the porch steps
through the door you’d come
leaving scratches on the asphalt and the concrete
ripping holes in the screen door
to invite further company.
For days I left a dish of milk by your stiff face
but only attracted the most degenerate
unwanted and unnamed creatures.
You remain unimpressed.
What I would give
to rake your vertebrae with my digits once
again delivering a shiver.
I have enclosed this letter
in the hope that if one morning you uncover your slitted irises
you might read it and remember me.
Claw your way out of this grave
that I have dug for you