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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2210698
Sometimes I can't sleep. This was one of those nights.
My eyelids are heavy Gold light on a grey world
And moist lead-lined water spills an open bedside drawer
Down my face, unforced my bedsheets crumpled
And unprovoked, from not-quite-sleeping
An expression of fatigue

The day had been long soft covers on cold feet
I don't think it was tiring restless hands grip bedsheets
And yet my thoughts are too loud

Dead limbs and dark feelings
                             Cold toes and slower b r e a t h i n g
                                                           Might say otherwise
                                                                                         When the silent night
                                                                                                                       creeps forward, a traveller

Approaching foreign lands - my thoughts never-ending
"progredior" - and then when dark is no sanctuary
I greet the stranger, nor the light kinder
open arms: Hello. revealing the truth
old friend. I close my eyes

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