Someone left the light on
Across the alley and is keeping me awake
As their thoughts burn tungsten like
Stringy fuel.

I, who have spent years finding the
Fissures one must
Slip through to find
Sleep
Roll over my desire
For sightlessness.

The oscillations of particles
Of luminous space between windows
Scorch in cranial irregularities – beta waves
That crash and
Scrunch
Like scattered nails
Under the skin of my eyes.

And the thing is that
I am thinking not of myself and the
Wasting, charred hours.

I am thinking of whoever pulled the cord
To light the intruding bulb.

And how they don’t know that there is someone else awake tonight.

Someone sharing in their private, expansive
Darkened world
Of hours that no one ever claims.