A CHILDLESS DREAM
See the spectral
blaze of a child’s
silhouette seared
against the plaster.
Sound waves of
laughter take shape
into that of a hum
drumming through
my body, no
ponderous
force pulling me
down the center.
Her phantom bore
a hole through me.
Pink fractals sprout
throughout my skin.
The longing has
gone, disintegrated
into the brackish
water that’s
extinguished the
flames of need.
I no longer
sense the urgency
in my womb.
She’s just a faint
memory of want,
an etching fading
from erosion.
INSOMNIA
I ruminate about the past and
future, in a world that subsists
in the present, spinning in a
cyclical existence. Stories
form creases across the folds
of wan, scarred skin. My
clothes are torn and faded.
Dressed like a vagrant, I let
words slip out from my mind,
down through my fingers,
and onto the typewriter.
Indelible memories flow out
in ink. Into the night, my
head nods as sleep beckons,
a miasma of cigarette smoke
and ash hangs. A nicotine halo
wreaths me. Disgruntled
drones wake carrying off to
work in a sleep medicinal daze.
I am the stupor filling in the
fractures of their skulls. Dusk
has long passed and dawn
sneaks its way across stretches
of moonbeams over the
landscape of my psyche. I
yawn, fanning my face with
scribbled pages in the heat.
Show me it’s time to lay my
head, my world upon a strained
neck, down on my pillow
to greet the escape of slumber.
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