Fee
Fie
Foe
Fum
While the prose may at times be purple
I am shamed by its intent
Tonight I can't sleep
For the barking of all the dogs in my brain
Sleep my love and may peace attend thee
God is in the details
I can lie here watching dreams pass under
The perfect ivory aqueduct of your bones
Had I slept
It would only have been another hour
In which you were lost to me
A waiter between dropped stones
I am nothing in this world
Beyond the things one woman does
Sleep is merely a waiting
A smoldering