Insomnia

3:20 am

As the doors of suburbian garage doors close, the eye lids of their owners slip and shut.
I wish my own eyelashes would meld together, and my irises hide from an unknown night.
But my time is the night.
The day is long, hectic and the sun burns into blue ethnic visionary pools.
Dark glass covers my pain and white liquid sprawls across scarlet skin.
But when the moon calls, my mind is alert, fiery, full of ideas, questions, wonders, thoughts, pains, sufferings, lust and joy.
As soon as the first leaf blocks a ray of sunlight, there is a special moment I cannot begin to describe.
Dusk settles and there is a scented wind that twirls my tendrils with sensual fingers. The hazy color of the sky dips into black ink and I am finally myself. Awake when all others sleep, alone when others find love, afraid when others at peace. But night calls, and I must obey for it be a stern master.