Saturday, September 1, 2012

Last Night (My Proustian Night)

I lie awake, alert, feeling the elapsed hours, ceding to a resignation of sleeplessness.  I gaze at the blocks of night above the outlines of the day: a pile of books, a jutting lamp, and feel a growing lightness, eventually emptying myself into the lake of oblivion.

1 comment:

Denise | Chez Danisse said...

What a night, so beautifully described.