Episodes of Insomnia

There's something charming about the weight under your eyes. I can tell you're suffering but I can't implore why. My thumb tries to remove the weight, but it only marks your complexion deeper. We're sinking. Deeper. I'm desperately alone now. Juxtaposed to an unfathomable urge to extract your weary weight, but without the capacity I linger in inept dissatisfaction. We're sinking, deeper, fuller, swifter, together.

Between our lackluster limbs we lock fingers. Past the lustrous depths of our eyes we imbue reservation in each other. You can tell I'm suffering but you daren't implore why. Our pain is beyond our reckoning. We're too complex to really reveal anything. We tell each other everything without knowing exactly what we're saying. I see the weight pulling your eyes lower, downward, skyward, starboard. I'm possessed by the urge to eradicate your discomfiture, but I refrain. There's something charming about the weight under your eyes...