resting place
insomnia
is the stone
I move
from the hand
that forgets it
to the hand
that remembers
nothing.
sleep’s
reactionary
phobia
of loss
comes to me
in a dream.
the distance from you to me
is still
god. to what
your sight
has touched
I appear
visible.
as recalled, my childhood
has very little
on the illness
it took
to process
yours.
kingsoftrain 
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