A Sleepless Digression



Watching the stars, a lifetime before dawn.


Sitting in the open window, desert breeze across my bare chest.

Flexing my right hand, in syncopation with my heart.

If my heart fails, my hand will fall.

But if my hand is stilled first, will the beat falter too?

How much of life is will, how much of will is life?

What IS my will?

I hold up my open hand to the night, watching the stars gleam through my palm.


A lifetime before dawn.


1 Comment

  1. Life *is* will. Or maybe, it’s just the dogged determination not to fall down.

    At the very least, to always get up when we do.

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