and the red seeps from swollen lids
that are giddy to be tired
leaking like a juice box
while bells are chiming
charming alarms
til ears are danced upon
by cleated voices angry
with their mothers
and Freud is smoking on your
uvula, swinging and swaying
etching your thoughts into
the tonsillitis
but the face creeps to content
lying in your blue gaze glow
screen and it's
the happiest exhaustion
observed