shipwreck

sleep deprivation

winds me up in

other ways, 

slants my thought

processes

just so; just so

i see everything

from a slight tilt,

& sense abandons

current plateaus

for easy flow

to a lower plane.

today,

my body is a boat

half-sunk in 11 o'clock.

my head a last

escape of breath

in amorphous

ascent over

wreckage below.

but is it retreat

or just runaway?

a climb for the sake

of climbing.

silt clouds skirt

lower edges,

& then still,

remains creak

from pressure

& slow settling

in deep dark.