Do you sleep at all? Do you ever stop shaking? Does your wakefulness twist past the yawning abyss that consumes your dreams? Are there still points of rest between your erratic motions, or do the ghosts encroaching need motion to keep them away? These questions aren't rhetorical. I'm trying to assess the mess inside. And your mouth curls like a dog's, in a permanent smile, but your eyes issue a denial. Do you sleep at all? Or do you sit up chain-smoking: a habit learned late that you've come to hate but that fills up the time.