Falling into Sleep

There are some days left of 2011.
I’m still vegan and sober
and blahbadey blahbadey blah
I’m not the best vegan I’ve ever met,
but Lord knows I’ve tried.
Tofu cream cheese tastes like spackle.
There I’ve said it. He said it first.
I’ll eat it, but I’ve said it.

My nose is still runny,
body still achey.
Still still still
what’s left of us?
The moon shines,
the buildings across the yard
keep their Christmas lights up,
for what?
It helps me see into their lives.

We never sleep. And in such sleep
Who are the time keepers?
Let’s let this one go.
I am waiting for the front door to open.
For the tinsel on the closet to fall.
My sweater is drying in the kitchen.

I take hot baths with rose oil
in the winter. What kind of ending
is this? Who will replace the taper candles
when they burn down the wine bottles?
Who will have my cups of wine?
Almond milk ruins decaf coffee.
Decaf ruins cups of coffee.
I do this to myself.

The year is pounding to a close inside
my head. The brain expands, blood swells pink,
and I sleep with my head reaching toward
the window. For the moon. The neighbors.
The clothesline freezes our towels.
My sweater is almost dry near the oven.

Still still still
the small voice says “Amy,”
I answer and it tells me
to sleep.