Thanatos’ grip

While I watch the apple un-peel, fix
Itself, I linger in null space,

Avoided aftermath, just between
Speculation and the deed is done.

I’m re-tired, now dogs barking in
The night’s just one more sign, like

Leaky bladders and bland food, apples
The exception. Pings, dings and

Pop-ups neither move nor inspire me to
Seek, dread or despair any longer.

Words dare me to, but fail to enamor, not
Like sleep, food or crapping does in

Human reduction to thin necessity, like
Light, an illusory mass beating us down

Pressing us in struggle, your God against
Mine, Eros ahead falling to Thanatos’ grip.