Human Down

It was not
so bad a night:
fine-tuning the playlist,
a silver G harmonica
crossed off my wish-list,
only a few fleeting
moments of searing,
craving, let-down
of classic not-having.

Then I relented,
to pick back up again
in the after-sleep.

Seized awake
by my crotch contracting,
I groped my way
up the basement stairs,
unaware of how lucky
I was to ascend
unassailed by darkness.

As it streamed out
my body, my body
shuddered, faltering
as if it was being robbed
of its only source
of conductivity.
My chest shriveled up
like a clementine
untouched too long,
and my eyes,
though open,
lost their quality
of light. I
trusted them.
And fell.