the other night i had dreams about alien invasions. and getting lost in the dark. some nights i don't know if it's the street lamp glow, from the corner through the window, that all night long buzzes me into these . where i can run for hours away from The Empty without tiring. and where things make sense. or don't. or, anyways, i don't seem to care. some mornings, i'm afraid to confront the mirror's wake. test the creak of the floorboards under my weight. if only, just in time. and in case.