beddy-bye

The signs were there from the start, the line wrapped around the block, the shot in the dark. The too too solid, and the sadness of the melt. Meet me where the wards waver and the faith gutters and chokes. Find me in that odd instrumental that feels like foreshadowing, but is really the busy forest of your mind. I’ve gone unkind, though only in slips and shades. I’ve turned cruel with the claim of the growing trend. No one wants to hear it, least of all from me. No one wants to go there on their way to bed.

Give up the diversions and the grandiose, offer up your yip yap to the dreaming. You’ve bullied the pulpit long enough at the church of too little too late. The songs still play and your lovers are all waiting in line. The dreams will tell you what you’re taking. Your shining crown, the sickle sharp moon. The tide is there, the tide is gone, the machine breathing little pieces of you to life. Breathe in, breathe out, let my folly fuel your flame. Climb in bed with this fonder absence. Call it a day.

The night climbs the ladder, the moon on the steps. My bed is unmade and burdened by beasts unbidden, strewn with best wishes and undetonated blessings, lousy with all these days  rued. Sleep is a derelict and a rake, always teasing the mark. I abide the rising hours, the weeping and the woe. Muttering bedtime stories and vamping lullabies, I goodnight the windows, I goodnight the walls, I goodnight all my lost and my left. All my goodnight kisses long ago kissed goodbye.