Untitled. For now, Sleep.

He's asleep, his mouth wide with the fury of an idiot. Dulled
by the chemical soup of sleep, the muscles in his face lax
lacking any tension, no winks or twitches--stasis
except his roving eyes, which wander over the inside of his eyelids.
His long lashes closed together like a Venus fly trap.

His lungs pull the air into his gaping mouth, I watch.
I could say anything in his ear
my hand a fetter to his wrist
still
bound.