math class

sleepy

droopy

heads like

dying daisies,

petals of hair

on the brink,

falling off the edge

of eyelids

 

 

yawns that

could gulp down

the world

in one contagious

outrageous

inhale

(and that just made

me yawn)

 

 

rubbing and

scrubbing eyes

stretching arms out

of hibernation

 

 

dull frustration

 

 

beating softly against

temples

squeaking with

sleep

deprivation

 

 

all waiting for

one big

revelation

the zenith of a

rollercoaster,

the pop of a

cork

 

 

but

it drones

on and

time drags on

stretching our

neurons

thin

 

 

we’re nothing

but mathematical

ghosts

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