apotheosis at midnight

by Marisca Pichette

fever-tangled sheets

empty water glass

bathroom glare

mosquito net.

insomnia is time travel—

an hour lasts an age

lives used up

discarded into soon forgotten

half-dreams.

if this bed were fuller

or emptier

window more open

less closed

if the mirror over the sink

weren’t spotted with toothpaste

or tears

this princess just might’ve found

the match to the slipper

lost among dusty boards

buried far, far beneath

her sleepless bed.