Midnight Ramble
By The CanarY
I sleep now in these years of feet dragging from echoes of the Atlantis we were so foolishly expecting, with the covers pulled over my head. Like a child's, my mind is open to the dreamy terror of night- that vague shape of nothing you traced by design to dim infancies. Forgotten now. This is called, by the children of our future, Memory Repression. We can think only of things that have lifted the wind in a sweet lullaby to our ears. All else is gone to soil in amnesiac gardens of forget. But I, you see, am no longer a stranger to the night. A hostile environment is crawling all around me with slippery con-trails setting in behind their every step. When I am sleeping, all motion ceases to be; the calm land sleeps at my side, at my every front- air dares not stir. The fear is a living thing: wailing & gnashing its teeth, it commands the blood to race. I know nothing of the fear. Soon, we will all know nothing of the fear. Written October 15th, 2001 © on Oct 15 2001 06:48 AM PST 18 • 0 • 12
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"I sleep now in these years of..."