I can’t sleep
So I almost reach
For the book
On my bedside table
Before I realize
There are words
On my skin
In the nightlight
Of my mind
They say
The sheets
Are soft
The words
On my tongue
The air
Is stale
The words
In my ears
The wind
Is blowing
And the cat
Is meowing
There are
And always will be
Words
And I
Am only sometimes
The writer
More often
The reader
Of the words spoken
By the sheets
The wind
They say
You are alive
And there is a story
Ever simple
Yet ever deep
And endless
Even one stitch
Of sheet
Has every single word
Ever known
To say
To even one cell
Of skin
If I just close my eyes
And listen
Comments
No posts