i am blasted by this fatigue of being,
of shifting shapes and
short-fused dealings,
of darkness felt in light.
i propell tonight's rain
toward the clearing
and dismember the deluge of sunshine,
blowing out the incandescent sky
with a spent sigh until the tint
of so much dusk drains these
waking phantoms of their sight.
quietly, protected, i lie amongst
the bleeding stars, soaked
in surfeit perspiration.
wide-eyed and still unsatisfied,
i simulate the sounds of sleep.
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