Sleepless (Poem 175)

one-twenty-five    two o'clock even 

though it's cool and even though 

I'm warm   fuzzy anticipation 

of fuzzy thinking 

like drinking red wine 

on a hot dry afternoon    aching 

for tomorrow's ache 

the kind sleepless nights make 

marble statues of us all    

around three get up 

and fake it trying to ignore 

the gray seeping in around the edges 

of the midnight curtain 

empty bottle mind like blowing 

on a dandelion and wishing 

a cloud would cover the moon 

so   in this room   the sponginess 

of the bed and my head give nothing 
away when daylight 

comes too 

soon   too soon

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six