Fever Dreams

By | 2 August 2003

for Tom Waits

The darkness within darkness
comes and so the child in

all of us rises, after midnight,
slipperless, with no lights on.

Still asleep, he or she walks
barefoot over cold floors

headed towards warm rooms
that are never there. All

nightmares last well into the day
that follows. Attempting to

forget merely guarantees that
we will not forget. The blinds

are closed, the doors stay shut.
Shadows gather. Darkness

within darkness comes, and
so the child in all of us rises.

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