sometimes she forgets, and she wakes me up by touch - i hate those late nights, because i am robbed then of hypnopompic tranquility.
most days i wonder what it’s like, having zero obligations - i dozed off in the surf, painted neon blue by some nearby coral beast’s castoffs. it wasn’t dawn i was waiting for, but just the tide rising high enough to submerge me completely - my lovely wicked moon its accomplice.