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 head.

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.