insomnia
is the stone
I move
from the hand
that forgets it
to the hand
that remembers
nothing.

sleep’s
reactionary
phobia
of loss
comes to me
in a dream.

the distance from you to me
is still
god.  to what

your sight
has touched
I appear
visible.

as recalled, my childhood
has very little
on the illness
it took
to process

yours.