this wax-eyed hour
of weak,

i’ve no appetite
for sleep,

to speak’s a reach
through scratched up screen,

watching stances
quarrel..

tangled,

flexing hot
caffeine,

man child pounds
on bar-

to rouse
alarm,

spreading fire ’round
a schoolyard war.

self-portrait hovers
crooked,

who’s yet to
notice?

railing’s
missing teeth.

last silver hairs line
carpet stairs

at foot of firepit
naps dad’s vacant chair.

a mess that mops up
for nobody

scribbled on slate
scenery-

bleeding over
life,

painted as whose beauty
dulls the
knife.

driftwood
eyes

stretched
islands apart,

ice yet stuck in
throat,

smoke signal distant
boats,

seabird feather
sneeze,

in flames,
the ocean trees

flicker
me asleep.

might there be
an end

in which we
stay?

could be you’re far too
kind to say

no care
could bridge

the void between
our dreams

in
reality.