Sleep Spectrum

i. Your tongue is bleeding. Not blood, but words spilling between your teeth. The lost adjectives of the air, and the verbs that could have been. The strangest sound in this world is silence. ii. Butterflies are a symbol of death. You did not know this when you chased down that monarch and toppled into a rocky creek. For a moment, the water burst with scarlet lilies. iii. Your best friend is sitting in a bar. Your best friend is drunk and crying because she believes in God. iv. You are having a conversation with the wind because you need a friend and it is the only thing that wants to listen. You tell the wind you're lonely. It talks back with the chimes on your neighbor's front porch. v. "I want to be a bird." He looks at you, laughs. Takes another drag of his cigarette. "We can be birds together." You are both standing on the rooftop of a building. The air whistles in your ears like a train. vi. What a coward you are for hiding in pockets of time as if you have any left. He waits at your doorstep. vii. The sky is putting on her evening dress. You lay side by side with him as the hush dances between your fingertips. Easy words mingled with his mermaid breath make you want to tempt fate again. You will lose, of course. viii. howbigisthisworld youarenooneinthisplace youwantmoreyouwantmore youwanttohaveeverything giveyoumoremoremore in a bottle of pills. ix. Soap up to your arms. Dishes washed, shelves dusted. The kitchen floor smells like lemon. You scrub at the walls and cry and you have just gone through a bottle of cheap wine, but nothing you do can give you back your white dress. x. You march through the city upon a pair of hot pink stilettos. You learn to balance on them because you are tired of being an ant.