NaPoWriMo #8 – Fatigue, Why Have You Come To Haunt Me?

i

Mister,

Where do you hail from

in your trench-coat
of sable, gallivanting gait
and eyes of amarantine?

I am asking this, because

you always manage
to materialize
from out of nowhere,

even though
everyone here
knows you by name.

Your covertness
deserves an award,

because your
operations are
never carried out
in darkness,

but on days

where temperatures
have nowhere to go,
but up!

ii

Your appearance;
though fleeting,

never fails to uncork
and pour its strange
brand of perfume

that intoxicates

during the back
of bumpy car rides,

after hideously
heavy lunches,

or in the midst of movies
that even Despair
deserts out of frustration.

Mister,

do you mind if I ask again?

How do you choose
your unfortunate targets?

How do your aims
never miss the mark?

And why are your
successful efforts
always met

with the universally
open-mouthed
phenomenon
they call

the Yawn?

iii

Mister,

I do you no harm!

I come in peace!

But why do I feel
your palms over my eyes?

I have not betrayed you,

but this gentle hum
and enveloping murder
of invisible formaldehyde
tells me otherwise!

Yet – even more,

as the knife twists
in my fascinated hand
by that infinitely
gracious touch,

the momentum
of the engulfing wave
a seductive yield
that grows much warmer
with every minute –

© Zelda Reville

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Day 8: Why hasn’t my sleepiness gone away? Can it be banished? I hate how it’s stealing my motivation and basically making me want to catch forty winks…