Sleepwalker

twenty six.

And walking quiet on a creaking

Red floor,

I am the ghost of room three

On the first floor.

I am stripped cold

Pale white pillar under black moon

This night

Is strange to me

Sun dancing sinner, the night

Is plain 

Is too loud -- screeching silence

And all is sleep but me

(My lips too quiet -- you

Less so, you breathe)

I rose late to a leaky faucet

And trying not to wake them

How the hours 

After light has deserted
Are worshipped

Star kissed shadow

That will never tell your secrets --

It is only purgatory

For ghosts like me

Locked inside waking

Or the ghosts that live always 
In that thinest lining round your temples
(At night they come out to play)

Crawl down beneath the skin of

Sleeping giants 

Floating under barrel chests 
That rise and fall, unaware

Of the living world next to them ruled

By sleepless specters

(And could I see them, your ghosts

Kept outside the real 

Running in your false

Sunlight, false night too 

To ask them

Of their ghosts, or do they dream of you?)