With every passing star,
one by one by one,
until the sky is a mask
of infinite wishes,
I slowly fall awake.
Each moon brings another hour of
insomnia.
Cry out into the barron winter air.
desire... crave... need...
Thrash around on this concrete slab,
grinding my teeth and
clawing at the processed rock-
clenching my eyes shut tight against the emptiness;
against the truth that what I am,
what I have been is an impossibility.
A virtual complex of ice and cages.
But when it melts?
When it twists the metal bars into weak,
crusted walls that shrink around me,
fall and crush me,
Am I nothing more than
in longing?
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