The night is asleep.
The wind rustles leaves outside,
like a sleeping lovers breath,
steady, balanced, constant,
a counterpoint to my brain’s activity.
Flitting.
Unable to focus.
Unsettled.
Unheard voices drift together in snatched sentences,
constructed of words that happened;
of words that are imagined;
of words that will never be said.
I see endless greys,
reflections of permutations,
trying to look them in the eye
like trying to see more than the shapes,
in the dark,
that loom,
undefined.
A rumble gently forms and grows and exhales
in time to the breathing of the wind.
The boundaries of sleep,
blur with reality.
The border shifts and stirs.
Posts Tagged: insomnia
2
Feb 22