No sleep

In an effort
to strike the clouds from the wind
her offset hand can glide regrets
and straddle the endless sky in cradled bounds.
The firmament gives way
in the likeness of a growing boy
towards the closest route to inclemency.
A sun clot stuck fixed on a pane;
the shear of jutting light cut cicada oscillates
through the dust.

unremitting; a pulse of heart
there's a clash of teeth
whose veins rupture thought
in a glance which audits rhythms.
For those who breathe through nightlife
and the capsized incandescence of the moon's inhibitions
who shed eternal the silent pull
that can sag the eyelids heavy
with constant enervation
a belittlement of safety
escorts you all to wake.