What is sleep,
In the end?
Smoke rises
As eyelids fall
A wrinkled space
between my eyebrows,
counts the doses
and takes them all

What is waking,
In the end?
The fog of
a forgotten dream,
The shallow breathe
Of weariness,
Or the tea kettle,
Shrieking without rest

What is love,
In the end?
Musing the discomforts
And trains in the distance,
The taste of cheap coffee
And persistence..
Your name dances on my tongue
Like dust

In my eyes
The end is near
The controlled chaos
Is what brought us here
This mural of
Sleep, wake, love
has paint
chipping off the edges.