NIGHT EJACULATIONS

The grave silence in this ocean of sheets,

Found me in the belly of them,

Twitches of solitude

Itches of morning

Whispers of dark rays

Covers of night.

While the clock ticks

My hair they pick.

Sagging the bags beneath my eyes

As tears dribble down my spine.

Crunches of misery, wavering of time

Sisters of night, lovers of dark

Grant me this plea

For just, a minute slumber, I, desire.

It is 1 am, 2 am, 3 am, 4 am, still no blink.

Names from many tribes and ages given

Sick, insomnia, depression, insanity, illusion, hypnosis

Witcraft, magic, lost, Satanism.

Still, no, sleep,

They are no strangers, not friends

But between the leaves

We fly on a plane quiet and lonely,

I see them, they see me,

We, all, lost in time, lost in us.

It is 1 am, 2 am, 3 am, 4 am, still, no, blink

We were never friends nor foes,

Never hate nor love,

We were ourselves,

Finding solace in this void,

They called and I answered

I fall, they wait for my rising

Like a rasin they cut me before my due date

And I find reason on the bench of their aura

I kiss them with dwindling eyes

Yet we never ejaculate in pleasure land

They stare while I count the white cubes above

tearing my eyes wide,

Tearing pages, scribbling words,

Screening visions and watching my nightmare,

For it is 1 am, 2 am, 3 am, 4 am, still no blink

We were never friends nor foes,

Never hate nor love,

They were me as I was them

Slowly striding the path to light,

Kissing the past on the lips of today.

Munching possibilities with teeth of uncertainties

They are here again

Striding pass my window,

I see them, they see me

Unlocking my soul

To their seduction

Caressing their tender breasts

As they stroke my mind.

Ecstasy of night,

Sweetness of morning

Illness of Noon,

We were never friends nor foes,

We were little creatures,

Finding our path on the misty desert of our bare lives

It is 1 am, 2 am, 3 am, 4 am, still no sleep.

written by Andrew Patience (AP)