Nighttime
Is not moonlit cheeks
And starry eyes

It is a silent island
A private pillar
In the mists
Of lost sleep
A single bleary eye
Fuzzy and clouded
Picking out the patches
Of pixelated sky
Deadened by darkness
Alone again

for

    once,

   i would

love

      to be

         the poem

and

     not

         the poet