fuel

some nights I can’t catch the sleep I need to fuel my body for the day to come. instead of dreaming up days that never were and never will be, I lie awake and count the dreams I shouldn’t harbour but can’t quite help bringing to boil. the faces and figures of those I love and shouldn’t are tapestries I can’t quite tear,  hanging on the underside of closed eyelids. by my pillow I listen to the faint hum of the current of energy running through the cord and pumping charge into my phone like a bloodstream I can hear.

on the bus in my dream the boyfriend of someone I know plays a piano track from my new favourite film over and over. in the movie the melody plays whilst the heroine recounts a dream she had about a world where dogs ruled as humans and humans were dogs. I laugh at the pathetic thought that my hearing the keys play the same tune in my own dream might mean something.

at work we reach a milestone. we thank the corporate card for drinks and cheers to another boulder rolled. I leave with less days ahead of me, gaining little more than a headache. at home I’ll think about the phones that blow up in people’s pockets and the bombs that flatten schools because my taxes still charge a war machine my country calls a friend. I want to dream of you and when I do I wish we never met.