Thursday, March 12, 2015

Night Sweats

     I lie in a small, breathless egg curled tightly.

I am awake in the dark, filaments of light connecting me
to the far outer reaches of the universe pulsing messages
of inspired clarity into my being with taut and searing vision.
Switchboard, locus, I am a medium for the universal voice.

     Inert, my albumen skin sucks in and out of my nose.

Sleep shatters as all the messages pouring in flood my veins
through every open channel. I can hear them breathing next door.
The night is a living thing and I am its heartbeat. Eventually
all knowledge will come to me - the urgent, necessary understanding.

     Wet sack, sticky eyes sightless, I hear only distortions.

When you know, you know. Anticipating thoughts, seeing actions
unfolding in the moments before, I strike with my chameleon tongue
unerringly, never missing my target. Stalking the night paths
chosen for me, I prowl with a god inside. His eyes, or mine?

     Something large settles on me, blocking out the light.

4 March 2015

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