If dreams only come when you fall asleep,
then I am so devoid of hope and starlight that not only am I unable to sleep,
I also can't dream.
If I shut my eyes tight
and un-think the whole day, month, year...
Will it work then?
Then might I be graced with the company of slumber
The sweet kiss of a subconscious memory,
not yet performed
Perhaps
if I stare long enough, into nothing,
my ceiling will, at the exhale of my tired lungs...
dissolve.
To reveal the sky.
That sky, full of wishes-upon, might shed the silvery light I so crave over and through
my eyelids, gently guiding them to a close.
my clenched jaw, releasing tight strangulation of my worries, sorrows.
and over my hands
ankles
stomach
and lips:
the protectors of breath, of sound, parted.
As if to offer a home for a word of love or a vulnerable display for the keeper of sleep.
Rapid heartbeats and twisted spine, no peace or relaxation.
Until, after eternity,
Sleep arrives.
Quite late, unapologetic, without a word but a whisper;
"follow..."
After patiently waiting
in eager longing, with a sore vessel full of warm blood
wanting...
I go.
One final inhalation reaches through to my bones and I...
Give myself to sleep.
At long last the last breath was breathed and I,
I drifted off into a dream.
©anna.sophia.wolner 2013