Neil Fleischmann

Novem3S7on5mber1 208, tu2so001l6fd  · 

Shared with Friends; Except: Acquaintances

I'm sitting at my desk, when I should be in bed:

My going to sleep

can be a retreat,

from facing reality -

my dread of clarity.

Or - a brave march,

leading my parched soul

to the shop overnight

for tuning and tightening.

As I sit here resisting a rest

I desist from partaking of both

the stolen pleasure of escape

and my Divine nightly remake.