I could get 3 and a half hours of sleep if I could fall asleep now. There’s a feral awareness to a sleeping world. Strange time – dark vulnerability. But – soft silver light. The dance of pink moths. Evening Primrose blooms.
I like to look at Facebook Messenger to see who else is online. I like to see the strange 3:17 am gathering. All of us inhabiting this same time, same space.
All of us awake , when we should be asleep. Too late to get good sleep now. This is an uncomfortable time. A day ahead on no sleep. But, no chance of significant sleep. Maybe we are like the Evening Primrose, bold under the darkness. We hold our phones like the blossoms hold the moonlight. Enraptured, unable to look away.
Hellstrip Heaven 