nights like 
that, when
the line
between awake
and sleep
never breaks,
the comfort
of comforters
can’t take
me across
the curt
eternity of
blurred reality.
before dawn
stares back
at me
i hold my
third coffee
and stir
in the disturbed
slurry of a
morning that
will only
nights like
that upend
the senses
leaving me
against a
day without
an end.

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