Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2016
at night I have learned something raw. a new art. of closed eyes. sleep for me has become something pure. A substance without sin or dirtiness of being awake. or dozing in a red bed.

I could probably sleep on a park bench or a slab of stone. sleep with my head in a bucket all the same, undressed. I am just me on a slab of stone undressed. I am just me unchanged and unmoving.
z
Written by
z  nowhere
(nowhere)   
279
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems