I don't chase sleep
Sleep doesn't chase me,
Doesn't even half-two;
Sleep has/is/will have
Non-Existed since before
My body joined the Clock-
Work Greyness that is
(Time)
Clicking away to E
Turn It E, And E; It:
Returning back to...
Mysteries are born, die,
Re-emerge, when our
Senses draw in, rescued
From the Wake of the
Ship that Sleep is

(Some Pronoun)
Has to Pretend to Sleep
The conscious Abstract
Of being slightly more
Vulnerable than when
We were unremembered
Babies, crawlers, toddling the
Dimly-Perceived Tightrope
When we first begin to remember
Night Horse-Mares
Tromping and galloping
Leaving woven dreamprints
To keep our Id from forgetting
To tell us to breathe, water, and feed
Whatever the Ego and Superego
Allow/Disallow

Time is there, in sleep, but
Not of the clockwork count-
Down that is carnal fleshly
Life resetting in the same way the
Terminator says
"I won't be back, I won't leave,
I am always here," like
Past grudgingly releasing
Its soft, sharp claws, Fading,
Fading twilight into the ever-
Wide arms of darkness

Bad dreams, good dreams,
Balancing our warring survivalist
Self with the calm wakefulness
When all three the fulcrum
Of our mind arriving Ten
Minutes before the Two Others

Sleep gives way from the
Inert Vulnerable
To the Alert Unvulnerable;
Sleep is to Consciousness
As Death is to Life