His breathing is shallow and out of rhythm
eyelids as thin as petals
the light presses through the darkness
and pries them open
He changes position
scratches where he thinks it itches
it's like he suddenly forgot how to do it
can't imagine ever sleeping again
and the night is just there
it's exaggerated length stretching off
into the stuffy distance of the room
He rolls over onto his back
stares up at the ceiling
the blank eye of a shark
that never closes
He has reached the point
where something must be struggled for
it is familiar but it is of no comfort
a cold stain of breath on his shoulder
an ageless and endless fight
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