Sleep
I used to sleep like a teenager stumbling out of bed at noon
after a night of arguing obscure points of forgotten philosophy
with my clothes stinking of cigarettes and stale coffee
waiting for sunrise to signal the earth has spun another turn.
I used to sleep like a child - games filling the nighttime drifting
among the drama and crazy myths that never quite
come true while chasing the wildness of misspent days
hoping for adventures with a happy ending we can’t imagine.
I used to sleep like a baby - eyes twitching in some strange dream
deeply, deeply as though drugged senseless and grasping
for a mother who’s lost their little girl broken-hearted
and crying out for the touch of redemption and joy.
I used to dream silently in a wordless prayer spinning into
space waiting for the story to come to the final end where
we find the key and unlock the mystery that pulls us forward
and forward and forward, powerless, unable to resist.
I used to lay awake staring into the night chest heaving
with grief and the loss of you wondering how we so failed each
other letting our hands and hearts slip their moors like ships
adrift in a turbulent sea of lives that never quite find the shore.