Zubair Ahmed, Edges of Insomnia

Rising from my bed
I realize the night is young.

My balcony offers a hand,
I am a limbless man.

Outside, trees and birds weep.
Stars and trash cans sleep.

A man befriends the darkness,
Strips naked, gives her his clothes.

Rats grow their furs longer
And longer until they become houses.

The sea lists names
Of spirits who hold regrets.

A homeless teenager loses his mind
To the great emptiness within us.

Deer in the mountains dream
Of eating more than grass.

A woman walks into the wind
Carrying the book of a thousand languages.

You in your light become holy.
Candles light your path to the mountains.

Lying down on my bed
I explore the edges of insomnia.

I roll a loaded die.
I’m done taking chances