2:00 A.M. and unable to sleep

Stifling under a certain
lack of solicitude, a barrage
of barren hours
hounding themselves and multiplying,
I lie,
curled in burning denial
while yearnings simultaneous
amount to nothing
but almost misery.
It is not actual hell;
nevertheless the heat rails
against reasons and reason
and will this season
never end?
Perhaps, foolishly,
I've slipped unknowing
into lower, darker rooms:
untameable, untouchable,
flickering obsession--
or only enjoy
the flushes, the rushing flames,
and the roughed-hushed dreams
they so inspire.
Yet I tire of the stretching,
the waiting unceasing as light,
flowing like ink from perpetual pen
and I am the nib.
I do not know--
I do not know--
Oh to feel the pressing
upwards, the pressure of lips
and heaven alighted within
earthy frames--
oh save me sweet passion
from the sanity
that pushes in on my brains!