“You told me, Sleep, I’ll wake you in the morning.
I asked, What is morning? and you said,
When everyone who fucked with me I’d dead.
When everyone we loved has gone or fled,
That’s morning. Empty’s just another word for clean.
Let’s put this first draft dream of mine to bed.
I the appointed hour
I’ll pull up your sheets. I’ll kill the light,
Lie down beside you; die; and sleep the night.
This time will be the time we get it right;
Forgiveness not so hard, nor anger long;
Our graves will be less deep, our lies less true
You held aloft the sword.
I still love y”
― Nona the Ninth
I asked, What is morning? and you said,
When everyone who fucked with me I’d dead.
When everyone we loved has gone or fled,
That’s morning. Empty’s just another word for clean.
Let’s put this first draft dream of mine to bed.
I the appointed hour
I’ll pull up your sheets. I’ll kill the light,
Lie down beside you; die; and sleep the night.
This time will be the time we get it right;
Forgiveness not so hard, nor anger long;
Our graves will be less deep, our lies less true
You held aloft the sword.
I still love y”
― Nona the Ninth
Yana’s 2025 Year in Books
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