Where were you last night
when everything was quiet
and the doors were shut?

i found myself last night
the only one still left awake--
every single other human
had fallen victim to the pendulums 
of their own weary eye lashes--
curled up like specimens in their
test tube terrariums--
i stood watch and waited for someone
to hatch but the night was lilting
the night was lonely 
and i whispered my Hail Marys 
to the bellies of the moths
that crept in under the windowsill
to keep me company.
they brought strawberries on a paper plate
and the crusts of cold cheese pizza.
they say they had never needed sleep--
that sleep was for swallowtails
and i had to agree. 
Last night i was somewhere 
between the tiles on the roof 
and the faded constellations--
i don't think i fell asleep like
everyone else but i know i did
because i'm not a moth or a 
windowsill. 
i walked away from time last night--
and no cars found their way
down the street to push forward
the gaunt shoulders of sunset--
i had supper with every single
human while they slept 
i waited for one of them to awaken.
i saved them two strawberries
and gave the leaves to the 
moths to use as hats.
i asked when time would bring
me here again?-- at a rest stop from time
with plates of strawberries
instead of red vines
and glass bottle root beer. 
the only response was the beating
of moth wings and air conditioning.