Night Stings

 

Some nights the blood

Won’t work and the heart

Feels like there’s only

Half a tick of petrol left.

Sleep goes cold

And in the afterlife encounters

Monsters spiked with

Deep-sea electric.

Dawn ripens the above

Into perfect symmetry

Again. A quiet window seat,

Disturbed only by the sun.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s