delayed goodnight

a flawed witching hour-

the discordant tapping of

metal in a music box,

steps on floors of ice

and

frayed carpet.

dreams with eyes open,

edges blurred

like a photograph

with burned edges.

the day is melting,

but not finished,

exhausted but not

paused.

it halts often,

never ending,

stars beyond the curtain,

screaming to be seen

but hidden

by fabric.