There are certain memory traps.
Like imagining your younger
self, who always corrected
everyone on the definition of irony, thinking
of you now.
Nights spent dreaming of sleepless
nights. And when I become
sick of unknowing the world
in a cozy bed my mind will
wonder these long country roads
I call sentences.
There is nothing funny about
irony. We laugh uncomfortably
at such obvious signs
of what may be
a great and purposeful design.
If you fear dreams
of sleepless nights, you stay
up all night, fearing
that you're dreaming.
