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Oct 2011
late at night
the sun has gone
the moon a sliver
I lie awake
I've stared
at the ceiling
so many times before
where's Scheherazade?
to whisk my over-fraught mind
into the life of another
into restful sleep
too many years
with no sleep
only the spot
on my ceiling
I know it well
familiar
yet I do not
love it
insomnia
Sara Skora
Written by
Sara Skora
476
 
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