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  • Crackle
    Insomnia # 120628

    Extra arms and legs appear in my bed,
    like heads of the Hydra, every time I turn.
    They pile like cordwood
    against raw skin. Wherever I put them,
    they sear, as if the flame
    for which they were cut
    burns hot already within them.
    I twitch, exhausted, but not sleepy.
    My body twists into a mobius strip,
    a single surface of angst. Electricity crackles
    and snaps down my spine, leaping from vertebrae
    to vertebrae. My left foot circles and rears
    like a stallion. When it leaps from the bed,
    and drags the rest of me, protesting, with it,
    out into canyons of darkness, I light the night
    with the lantern that throbs
    from my skull.

    Mary Stebbins Taitt
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