a swing
a sludgy sway
i fall into the rhythm
of the dreamland beneath me

there’s a dance
odd
unusual
off-kilter
but on point
hints of voices
sounds like voices
but unvoices
they dance
they dance just like me
or with me in the grey
the thrum hum throb of blood in my ears
the fading day in my thinking eye

then it falls away like the bottom of a drop
a drop of wisdom that kisses me
and i sink into the depths
and find a strange relaxing
vigorous dance
a driving pulse
pulsepulsepulse
boom bat biddily boom batdabat
but the anchor thread draws it out
a pace over the pace
a drowsy sway in the race
it speaks to me in the old words
the song of bone and breath
this is the washing room
the last spark of the day’s fire

sudden but no shock
abrupt but comforting
the rhythms begin to dissolve
we take a pastoral trip into the nether mind
where thought connects with nothingness
the final flashes
before the comfort of dark rest
settles like a blanket draped by the hands of slumber herself

[sorry for the delay. i thought it was uploaded last night but my browser window timed out. *meow*]