i want to fall asleep to the sound of muted conversation,
tendrils of murmur contributing to the tenor of slumber.
i want to fall asleep while driving; to shudder myself awake,
perhaps too late, as i cross the dotted line. i want to
rage against the confinement of my dreams, to pound my
useless baby fists on the cold transparent barrier to
waking. i want to fall asleep and lose all my teeth and
breathe, breathe again.
i want to settle down and raise...something. i want to
immerse myself in self, hug and bind myself to self,
senseless, in a dilapidated upholstered chair in a
rest home. i want to be posed stupidly in my coffin,
one hand upraised, wrist bent, finger accusing my own
lights between stations establish a frequency i want to
hum, but if i think too hard on this train, i want, i want,
i want. i want to marry the conductor. i want to become
a handstrap. i want to never, ever, ever reach the next
stop, the rail stretching forever, the clanking of
infinitely many cars echoing down years of track. maybe
i have long enough to teach them all the frequency.