As comes what comes between, night and day in twain,
when the nightwatchman stop by to chain up the door
to your consciousness, with your last twitch, ask him
for a story spun with a good hitch, a plot twist
creative and enigmatic, something come
out of nowhere. Request, in fact,
he rely not on fact, nor on laws
of physics, say it must tug at reason,
make it ache and gnaw and leave nothing intact.
When it wanes, which it must, when the nightwatchman
draws a close to his chanting, attach to what you have seen
meaning, wake up intact, but know you have sense some magic.