Sleep alone: you require the comfort of dreams, not me, in fact I think you’ll be just fine without/
What good is lost
without a map to civilization
what is human but pavement
where a brain can scatter like
open jars of silky marbles all across
the barely lit highway
organs dry-abandoned alongside the carcass
& in the milky eyes of the corpse
Death reflects
its presence
for some, not soon enough
–LM