February 27, 2014
The sound of stars' apologizes
after a series of accidental collisions
keeps insomnia and I company

I dip myself into darkness (only to switch the light back on
and fish myself out again,
because who can sleep when the night is awake?)

Restlessness starts at the marrow of my bones
and creeps outward like an invisible cancer.
I will reconcile with sleep
when the sun takes its post.

4 A. M. blinks at the proposition.

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