My eyes cannot
stay open tonight. For weeks
I have longed
to pull back
the thin sheet that separates
me from anxious
dreams; the kind
where I'm waiting tables in some
vaguely familiar place
and people are
waiting for me to take
their dinner orders.
The guilty panic
starts setting in just as
I remember that
I haven't worked
at a restaurant for years.
Still, I feel
them waiting for
me, just as I wait
ever more impatient
for just one restful night.
Poetic Bloomings #65 - Betrayal
