It feels like
kissing shadows now
not quite tangible
more ethereal
as if I've stuffed grief
in a dark corner
Death and I
we dance
he mocks my moves
I groove on
no tears for his poisons
but he has stolen the Sand Man
who no longer visits
till too late at night
my eyes dry but heavy
tossing and turning
while Death breathes
standing in the doorway
rapping his knuckles on the frame
whispering
"why can't you sleep, hm?
why can't you dream?
is it because of me?
is it because of
me?"