when try as hard as you might
not a drop of sleep
flows through sands of time
waiting for tar black ink
to tattoo the insides of your lids
with promising zzzz's
wide awake
smearing stars with open eyes
suspended in bulbous liquid globes
of tomorrow and tonight
counting sheep
yawns make you weep
responding to quaking aches from galaxies of another life
floating in astronomical anthology of past present and future
vanishing past a deadline
baiting dreams in cosmic shrine
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