Shreds: “Sleepless”

Sleepless, I set the couch with care,
A hand pressed firmly on my cheek,
A pillow rests upon my midriff,
And tales of tedium softly speak.

Yet I await the moon in vain,
While the sun’s far, out of sight,
Dreams and faiths locked away again,
And a glass full o’ wine by night.

I ponder it it’s not unwholesome
To speak of God quoting the Koran,
‘Twixt a Klimt painting and Janus’ bust,
For now I loathe the air we puffed,

And I sing it, pressing ivory keys,
Yet solitude feels odd within,
Perhaps the scent of your old perfume
Infused in these pages seems more bitter.

I have a hundred songs to declare my love
Yet I’d like you to see me doing alright;
I know meanwhile you’re in Milan,
Perhaps Canberra or by the Nile;

The Earth now seems a mere dot, small,
I yearn to seek you but am already gone,
And I shout at the mirror, at a man’s reflection,
Unknow to both, you and I, in essence.

I yawn, my thoughts come to a halt,
Perhaps the ground’s softer for the wreck,
The remnants I seem to have become.
Should also do wonders for my back.

Once more, grandad was right.
Again, I go to sleep without respite.