porcelain family

[subtleresidue]

in my dream they sit like porcelain dolls
never moving but always staring
fragile, cold, side-by-side
whispering sweet gossip
thick like honey
sticking and slimy in their pale throats.

the porcelain throne greets me next
as my body empties itself of its
internal terror
and at eye level I sit
gasping into the basin
of my one and only porcelain friend.

back in bed I lie awake
my sister creaks above me
or maybe her bed does
and the room is silent
our curtains still
but as I drift asleep I can't help but notice
six porcelain eyes
glaring in the moonlight
watching me dream.