Sleeping with Demons

by Laura LeHew


I see the queen in her cups—

eight swords restricted

by a wolf moon.


I see Lust’s first blush

flesh on flesh on flesh

thrumming to be unbound.


I see the queen stand unbridled

a westerly wind

in opposition.


I see an innocent woman,

a man, a boy, from Tulsa,



The hanged man in anger.

The death.


I see the danger.