The Tiny Gnats of Memory

will cling to us if we’ve entered their house, ever
.
steal our soup, knock glasses of water
                           to the floor
.
tug our hair when we sleep
.
leave footprints in milk down the
                              hallway
.
make the cat screech and disappear
.
are silent and stare
.
hang our shirts upside down, dip our
        shoes in the toilet
.
refuse to tell us their names
          tell us nothing but their names
.
breathe like donkeys, stomp on our roofs
.
sometimes need us to open the door, 
             sometimes not
.
hide in the refrigerator
.
eat meat and are angry
          leave bite marks
.
are only hungry when we’re alone
.
pour gasoline in our shampoo, and ask us, later,
                              for a light