The Viscosity of Night

I’m going to bed, folks. Good night.

Waking on the Couch at 2:36 am

At first,
there’s panic
the air –
black,

heavy.
Only the clock
chips the stone
of this darkness,

its monotonous click
and tic and click.
I won’t breathe
again until dawn.

This obscuirty –
viscous and fierce.
The rest,
I’ve forgotten.

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3 thoughts on “The Viscosity of Night

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