night i

The heat is in the bed
the weight is in the quilt
I am in between
blood warm
and soft as flannelette

night ii

Sleep is a gravitational
drawing me down
pulling on all my cells
sandbagged and bottom heavy
while my breath rushes through the empty rooms above
like cats or children chasing
and images of my day flicker on screens unwatched

night iii

sleep is a force
and waking
is equal and opposite.

night iv

Sleep runs beneath me
like a river
A deep current cut
through subterranean tunnels
and the stone hewn foundations of us all

Sleep takes me

Skimming the dream oiled surface
in a skin boat
trailing fingers

Or floating
Sleep is salty
and buoys my spread eagled weight

or swimming
choppy in the turbulence
murmuring and rising from my bed

or sinking
down to the pressing dark
and not quite snagging
death who lies buried in the silt

Sleep is a river which takes me
becalms me
rolls me eddying onto the shore
and ebbs away

night v

Sleep is a bird
enticed by habit and ritual
to roost on your pillow
and nest in your hair

Not a small bird
or a meat eater
or a scavenger
but a seed bird
dove grey fading to ash
pecking metronomically
at strewn grains

Sleep sits on your shoulder
and nibbles your ear

Sleep flies in V formation
north for the winter

Sleep is a bird
taking fright
slamming into a high window
that looks like sky

breaking its neck


About Mikaela

I am an artist and writer living in the Perth Hills
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Insomnia

  1. Moira says:

    Yay! Welcome back to blogging world. This is really quite an amazing poem.

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