movies

Some nights I wake
at midnight
and can’t feel myself.
I don’t know where my breath
stems or
where it ends.
For hours, this way:
Huffing, puffing, sighing,
Flitting in and out of dreams
of plane crashes–
Where, dancing in my mind’s eye
is some kind of senseless tragedy
Every night.
The only kind of movie my brain makes–
The kind that leaves me
Full of questions.