The vast emptiness mocks me as I stare into the distance –
The fluorescents shine in vain, gesturing at airplanes
Streaking through the darkness in silly amusement…
I could dream that I were some place else;
Some decade else.
But, it is night tonight. And I am here
With the lights, and the spider marking my windows for prey:
I spy silky strands hanging from the forty-third,
Hoping against hope that food will climb its way!
I could scream – compete with the sirens blaring through the dark:
Someone, somewhere, is hurt…
Someone, somewhere, has played a prank.
My feet are aching with all the pacing; my eyes red, inflamed;
My mind is numb with racing against the mirage:
A desert city this – or are the dunes inside
Meshed with the beige carpet, the beach-tint walls,
The forty-five angle windows creaking against the wind,
The blinds aching to give in to the gravity
Of the situation blinding the tempest into nonchalance?
I tiptoe my way about, wishing not to disturb,
Wanting not to awaken the lain, hoping not to tarnish the beautiful!
But, there are scissors where my toenails were, and the carpet is suddenly linoleum!
The shrieking, screeching, grating metal reverberates through the night –
There's not a sound! No one turns in her sleep!
The glass is suddenly opaque. The sirens are deafening. The lights blinding.
A last flash of recognition before the veils pierce my skin
And return me to the unconscious…
* * *