by Pranav Mishra
Issue: Nostos (Winter 2019)
This void between my curtains deep
From which the world begins to seep
Lets in the shriek of nightly bells —
Tonight, it seems I cannot sleep.
Taste here the gale of gummy shells
Of battle-cries and battle-yells!
These continents of satin heave;
Unevenly like lungs they swell.
But then the sweep of sweet reprieve
Upon their swoon the night is cleaved;
Then nothing but the cricket’s croon
And gentle shadows from the eaves.
Perhaps my sleep need not come soon,
(And puncture) this phantasmal boon;
(And breathe) this unpolluted room;
(And [sp]end) this moment on the moon;