When it catches me
Warm in the classroom or nodding
Just after my stop,
I curse you.
Heavy eyelids.
Limbs weighed down with care and iron clad fears.
2am.
You dance from my fingertips and taunt me moments and inches away on the cool side of my pillow.
Long lost friend. Tormentor of Macbeth.  
That which I yearn for. Embrace of brief death.
You swine. Come to me when I call
Or let me be productive and don't come at all.