A miniature moon floats sleepily
atop my open window;
a drifting continent sifting
over shivering tree tops.
Watery clouds explore along the
broken crest of atoms,
fingers rolling in the shadows
of its dimensions.
My skewed sight steadily begins to
repaint the scattered stars and
one by one like raindrops,
they burst across the sky
Breathing down in thoughtful shafts
upon the inside of my eyelids.
I'm thankful to be an insomniac.