"Bodycam" by Jeffrey H. MacLachlan
Long hallway shrieks rattle candelabras. Why is my pistol light as Legos? Did his mask always resemble a smirking axolotl? He continues to recede into the distance as the hallway lengthens. Galaxy Motel janitor's toes salted into constellations. Chambers empty, chambers full, have I tattooed his neck with ebony hearts? The axolotl now crawls toward me. His eyes are closed and appear to be enjoying a pop chorus. My tongue is a purple cold ghost flossing between crowns, and the janitor is now suspended in space. Grinning axolotl face unzipping my wrinkles with repeated headbutt scrapes. Is this all just a mating dance? Hallways lengthen within my pupils awaiting permanent deletion.
Jeffrey H. MacLachlan
Jeffrey H. MacLachlan also has recent work in New Ohio Review, Columbia Journal, and the minnesota review, among others. He teaches literature at Georgia College & State University. He can be followed on Twitter @jeffmack.
Photo Credit: Staff / Artist: Elizabeth Dove