why i fell asleep in econ
By Thalia Honorat
Because scar tissue is not the same as skin.
Sleep, not the same as the dream
left behind for the restless
hanging lazy from the rafters. The bowl
tings, then gongs, wavers but
sustains. The wooden handle
a pillar for song. Hearing,
we decline the afterlife’s
free trial. Open
eyes wide to pray
to Daniel Caesar and sunrise,
shake in the slick hands
of Monster Energy
breathing sparks into your aorta.
Wake. We are laughing, trembling, alive,
winking at peripherals, dark dust motes
uncounted sheep haunting our vision.
I’m sorry, God, we just wanted
more life. At the eternity
that is 3:22AM, the stars
blinked out like when the fridge door
closes. Our answer is to open.
Eat apples and talk secrets
of the fourth dimension.
God says, Put that back.
We survive another sunset just to burrow
into down and cotton, to surrender
a third of self. We sink
Into the Lethe, our bodies
still facing the moon.