
Sleep withholds.
She finds ways to deny dreams
She finds ways to bury light
Sleep tosses and turns
Her rosy breath shares the dragon’s fire.
Paired to remind of her volatility
Her fickle nature revealed.
Her power of dark and light
There is no forgetting her enchantment
Her etherial veil of soft comfort
The way she lays fairy dust on the eyelids
for magic to dance under the moon.
Oh how the dreams she gives stir to
A life yearning for mystery
A life hidden in daylight
in those uninhibited visions
Of ecstasy and horror shuttering
in the deep subconscious sweat of dreams
welcomed and unwelcomed
as She pulls you in and down
In and down in a story hungry
for understanding lost to waking.
And then she withholds
Giving no rest, no slumber
No gentle thought to mind and body
in the toss and turn of those rumpled
sheets and sweaty pillows
night after night after night
You beg her to come and swallow you
to come and ease the daily grind
behind the closed eyes and prone body
you try to tease her into you.
Tease her back into the magic only she knows
in the willingness to give every inch of self
to the night’s death for replenishment
You die to her and she withholds.
Oh sweet Sleep dance me under the moonlight.
COPYRIGHT, jeanne adwani
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