they are all asleep,
but not snoring,
resting peacefully.
some hold spots for their
husbands or wives, still awake,
or children, brothers, sisters,
relatives
who visit
sometimes
and bring flowers.
some don't get any visitors
at all.
their names had faded,
their dates don't matter.
they all
used to work,
used to drink,
used to fuck,
used to pray
to
the crooked shapes
that guard their
sleep,
but now they sleep.
those who are still awake
don't like to visit at night
much,
so I'm the only one here at 3 a.m.
I smile politely.
hello,
I'll just sit here, quietly,
and wait for the sun
to come
up
as if I'm one of you.
