3 AM

Someone left the light on Across the alley and is keeping me awake As their thoughts burn tungsten like Stringy fuel. I, who have spent years finding the Fissures one must Slip through to find Sleep Roll over my desire For sightlessness. The oscillations of particles Of luminous space between windows Scorch in cranial irregularities – beta waves That crash and Scrunch Like scattered nails Under the skin of my eyes. And the thing is that I am thinking not of myself and the Wasting, charred hours. I am thinking of whoever pulled the cord To light the intruding bulb. And how they don’t know that there is someone else awake tonight. Someone sharing in their private, expansive Darkened world Of hours that no one ever claims.