by Joyce Carol Oates

Lie down in sleep but suddenly
this windowless bathroom?
white-glaring tiles? porcelain
sink so fiercely scoured
it's dancing with flames?
and no shadowy corners?
and the chrome faucets
too hot to touch? and
the perfect pool of the toilet
bowl in which a single eyeball
floats? and the mirror
so polished there's nothing
beyond the surface not even

Source: Acquainted with the Night: Insomnia Poems.  Ed. Lisa Russ Spaar.  Columbia UP, 1999. 22.