Tuesday, July 26, 2005

M L M Part 2

I ride the snooze gap. The seduction sirens dancing through my half dreams lull me into a sad, guilty, slumber. I know how short it will be. Now. Now that I need sleep more than ever. More than the night's restlessness. More than the evening's weariness. Morpheous has been beckoned, and returns, but this time he's an imposter. The fleeting return of the muddled ecstasy of visions, the ethereal dioramas of hopes and desires all end, abruptly. The gap has elapsed and the klaxon is roaring again. I will not sleep again. Not now.

I drag my aching body to the bathroom and perform my morning ablutions. I'm getting older - but I haven't yet reached the Larkin of 'Sad Steps,' of having to grope my way back to bed after a four o'clock piss with much looking out of bleak windows and many a curmudgeonly thought about my lot and my untimely bladder clock. No four o'clock preludes to the big get up for me. Bladder still capable of holding its own. Only the clock buzzer does it.

I study my face in the mirror for those tell tale 'marks of weariness, marks of woe' sympathetic nods to Blake's troubled Londoners brought forward to the here and now. And they're there. I peel off the residue of sleep from my eyes, turn on the shower with the precision of a safe-cracker, judge the cold to heat water jets to perfection, step in, and rattle-scrape the curtain closed.

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