Lucy Dale

Yellow Flamingos 

Yellow flamingos crowd my room
when I drag my eyelids across 

my tender corneas with the delicacy 
of removing a piece of tape 

from a thinly-painted wall.
Yellow flamingos lean over my shoulder 

at the family dinner table. They watch 
me from across the street as I walk 

with my friends. They ask 
about my thoughts.I try to reveal 

that I see yellow flamingos 
when I am wrapped in my bedding.

I scream on the inside. My comforter 
becomes speckled with tear drizzles. 

Yellow flamingos stand on my chest 
and tell me they’ll never leave.