sometimes, i wish that i
could sleepwalk, because
then, we might have a story
on our hands.

and i wouldn’t even
have to stop at
sleepwalking.

i could pack up my car
and go sleepdriving.
i could pack up my car
and go sleepfishing.

and i don’t
even
fucking
fish.

i could go sleepflying
out to vegas, sleepwalking
through the crowds of
people who are,
now, far too awake.

i could do some real
sleepsinning.

i could sleeprun,
sleepargue,
sleepbathe,
sleepfuck.

i could sleep while
i sleep.

but, even better,
i could be the first
to live while
they sleep.

i want to do some real
sleepliving. i want to
paint myself across
my entire existence.

no cracks in the space,
no time lost or misplaced.

i want to suck the juices
out of this
twenty-four hour tree
before it runs dry.

and you know
that it will run
dry.

so i’ll sleepdrink,
and sleepcry,
and do all of my
best sleepthinking.

before laying it all
back down, and trying
not to wake up and
ruin it again.