Amphetamine

I’m tired to my bones.

Sleep comes to me,

dressed in flowing crème and satin,

and begs me to take her

to my cheek, kissing my eyelids closed

and breathing into me.

She embraces and

coaxes and

folds me into her warm, soft

body, tempting me to succumb

to her desires.

At the sight of you,

she slinks away

into the forgotten shadows.

Your touch is my amphetamine—

a sun that rises

through my bedroom blinds

and slants into my drowsy eyes

rousing me for your desires.

Sleep must stay

curled in the dusk

and wait.