Insomnia tugs

me out of bed again. I suppose I could blame the genmaicha and brownies, or pin it on my tightly twisted pterygoids and their incessant insistence on wretched ruminations when all I want to do is close my tired orbs and sleep, sleep, sleep…

But I suspect the real story is much farther in than skin and muscle. Coursing through blood and bone like the susurrus of river reeds in a kelpie’s ears as she urges her heedless lover deeper, or the twitching of a tigress’ tail in the tiger’s face as she vanishes into the ruins of that ancient temple in the restless jungle heat.

There’s naught for me to do but play it out and hope the universe is listening tonight.

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