to
step back and look
like
a space raider might
or
a door made sentient by magic
well
they may find it crazy
or
maybe madly sweet
that
at
night
after
administering
ointment
and salves
and
swallowing
compacted
preparations
we
all lay down together
in
a soft compulsion
and
silent agreement
in
different softer clothes
or
less clothes
or
no clothes
on
as soft a surface
as
finance
allows
a
soft surface
designed
for just that
and
then
under blankets
and
under quilts
our
waking
grace
is
gone
as
our
legs and feet
strike
out skewiff
our
arms flung or folded
bent
as broken crosses
well
they may see this
as
code or a ritual message
acted
out on an upholstered plinth
us
as an unthinking sacrifice
and
there we surrender
with
little
fight
(are
we all children ?
they
may wonder)
into
a vulnerable unconsciousness
like
a death
but
for fits
of
blurts and gargles
and
pillow
muffled
mumbles
protected
only by walls and glass and faith
and
what these observers
can
not know is that
we
then
journey
on
interior
voyages
to
strange
times in random lands
where
the
faceless and familiar
can
sink
away
at
a
touch
overwhelmed
by their own
mysterious meaning
and the space traveler
or
furniture made thinker
may
find
this
activity
makes
any
observed insomnia
appear
a
sound
choice
the
proverbial picnic
to be awake and on watch
may
make much more sense
may
seem an obvious job
to their
new fresh eyes
a
safe and essential insurance
tho
also unknown to them
the
struggle
of
tired
wired
sleepless
exhaustion
is
a
fuckpit
of
half sanity
to
us
at
best
from wikipedia.org
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