If the hour begins
writing beneath a bright bulb
guard it from the sun

Take every night’s pen
and draw a bath of warm ink—
steep until you sleep

Forget the alarm
across the hall, your dream
stuck in the mirror

Above the sink, face
the door and pretend it’s closed,
that you thought that far

Ahead—words naked
and bloodless, eyeless, toothless
fill your hands and mouth

And all the hours
blur at the edges before
drowning in morning