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At midnight, I'm still awake, 

waiting on sleep’s blurred 

hypnagogic state,

a fleeting mirage like journey

crossing at nightfall.

I stretch to cut the bed diagonally, 

her legs retract unconscious

beneath her folded sleeping body.

A knot of blue sky fills my gut,

a worryglow from earlier, flittering 

like a young fish 


I sit up, anchored at the bed’s edge, 


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sleep paralysis III (01/03/2023)

if I stare at the roof long enough
would i let it's ink
roll down over me ? 

my shape, pliant and waiting and 
tilting toward the certainty 
the cooing touch and strain
spreading stygian weight 
pressing down, down, and do...wn

coy and waiting with glistening teeth
brushing, roiling voice 
weight like a purring cinderblock
hands, too many to be real 
too deft to be human 

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