the world beyond

writing about insomnia in the middle of the night

there's a world beyond the world you know
beyond your bedroom walls,
beyond your tangled sheets.
it wakens when you sleep,
the world that's finally ours.
our world is lit with streetlamps
and strained moonlight,
it is lit poorly or not at all;
our world is shadows and wishing
for the sun.
we did not ask for this world and its
vampiric rhythms
this alien planet that
the alien moon looks upon and judges.
we did not ask for the still
quiet cacophony
of a sleepless world---
the emptiness---
the deserted streets---
we did not ask for the desolation
but when all the world sleeps:
there we are.
we walk the night;
we yearn;
we cannot sleep;
we forgot how.
we wait
for the world that's finally ours.