The Nocturnal are Naked

In my dreams resides
a girl who labors torn
in the bloody separation
of child from mother.

Did I ever cry
so frantically
at the distance
between strangers?

I am fragmented
in insomnia.

Lifetimes pass under hooded
eyes before I drift away
into dreams darker
then the moment before dawn.

The sun rises, but I don't
want its false cheer, creeping
under the fleshy curtains
and sticky eyelashes of denial.

Let me sleep until it is gone:
imploded, exploded, atomized-
and I am dead.

Even you only touch me
in my dreams of our days.