I would like to watch the tombstones of my eyes 

drag my soul into temporary eternal silence 

where rest is an arpeggio 

to the universe’s pulsing rhythm.

I would like to be in the dark 

of that mausoleum whose 

bricks have not felt the air 

of new breath in a century. 

I would like to baptize its walls with new, 

silent purpose 

and compete against its longtime unmoving champions 

who have met face to face with the universe.

I would like to balance in the middle of the Ferris wheel of existence, 

where the dream is the apex 

and the depths of my mind simultaneously.

Where I might be stuck in between the balance of death and the life lived, 

the breath in and the exhale out.

I would like to be the heavy grain of sand 

in my cornea nestled inside the beast of myself, 

weighing my body down into the death of the day.

I would like to sleep beside the universe; 

to watch the rhythms of its endlessness pace slowly in its chest, 

dancing with quiet stirrings of a dreamful sleep.

But I am awake, 

awake from not understanding 

the behemoth before me; 

the endless anxiety stirring in the gaping mouth 

of the universe.