POLYPHASIC BEEP
Sleep and I are in a relationship built mostly on lies. I pretend I’m tired; it pretends it’s coming. We both know we’re bluffing. The bed welcomes me like a salesman, pillows fluffed with deceit, sheets tucked with malice. I lie there, a prisoner of my own design, counting regrets instead of sheep, replaying entire conversations I never had. Somewhere between the third repositioning and the…












