Phantoms a non-dark night raise
untuck & wrinkle sheets, rout the freedom
sleep might bring, posit an all
glass back wall, banish the laundry
upstairs till nothing but view’s left —
thrilling as artwork Leonardo’s
pencil drew until someone
mentions cost, that someone
the checkbook, upgrade relegated
to dollars & cents totted in columns & rows —
the total sum twice the eyeballed
guess. Grumble back to the catacombs
disappointed though not bereft.
Every insomnia gins new marvelry.
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