rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Reset Sixteen, Day Thirty-three

My latest sleep derangement has me waking up after about four hours feeling like I'm in a sauna, and I have to throw the covers off, although the room is the same temperature it was when I went to sleep with the covers pulled tight around me to keep the chilly drafts at bay. If I then get back to sleep, an hour or so later I'll wake up again shivering. Perhaps I have hypochondriacal malaria.

At least Saturday I was able to get back to sleep, as the morning was overcast and it kept the bedroom from getting too bright to sleep in. The sun came out for a while in the afternoon, though, which made for a pleasant hour or two. Lots of birds, including the mockingbird, came to visit my backyard. The chill returned quickly with nightfall, and today is going to remain cool. There might even be a bit of rain.

The hour I get to sleep is creeping dawnward again. There's no good reason for me to be wakeful so late, life here being as dull as ever. One would think I'd want to sleep day in and day out, but somehow that doesn't happen. Only my brain seems to sleep, while the rest of me just keeps going, yet getting nothing done. How annoying.




Sunday Verse



Serenade


by Kevin Young


I wake to the cracked plate
of moon being thrown

across the room—
that'll fix me

for trying sleep.
Lately even night

has left me—
now even the machine

that makes the rain
has stopped sending

the sun away.
It is late,

or early, depending—

who's to say.
Who's to name

these ragged stars, this
light that waters

down the insomniac dark
before I down

it myself.
Sleep, I swear

there's no one else—
raise me up

in the near-night
& set me like

a tin toy to work,
clanking in the bare

broken bright.

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