One thirty-4 AM
My mind and my body lead each other astray,
Up the garden path
They wind each other up.
As one tires, the other awakes
Refreshed and alert.
They prod and poke each other like children
Trying to keep one another awake.
If the physical relents and succumbs to relaxation,
The consciousness whispers and chatters,
Mercilessly tormenting with tales of missed opportunities.
As slumber seduces my spirit,
A prick of pain whip cracks its way to attention.
These slapstick antics gain metronomic momentum ’till they’re
Expertly dancing the foxtrot in my chest
And I’m grinding my teeth to its rhythm.
