Grains Climbing the Hourglass
The desert shifted into tall dunes behind his eyes, lids shriveled up and hiding somewhere out in the gradually materializing darkness of his bedroom with his dreams in tow. Seeking them out, he turned his head to gaze at the electric burning of 2:37 on his nightstand without flinching. He called back his lids from the void to veil his restless orbs, hoping impatiently to wait out the sleep he so desperately craved. In frustrated surrender, he exiled his lids back to the pitch, the desert behind his eyes frozen in terror as 1:14 smoldered red in the endless night.