A THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS ALONE
by McCarron

Say you wake

At 3:22 AM, alone.

The kitchen is bare

So is the street.

So much so your mind

Dreams multitudes

To compensate, again.

There is no redemption

From some things

Only a deepening that

Unsettles as much as it

Strengthens our will

To rejoin the heart’s

Ragged army. Morning

Will come soon, but

That changes nothing

Or changes little.