The exhortations would
not go away, the never-
ending unreeling of sub-
conscious interrogation
hysterical and delineated,
flying on pseudo ephedrine,
swallowing the phlegm
exacerbated in dreams
still half-awake.
Caught in-between,
tortured by meanings
all too clear with real
emotions attached, all
of these things palpably
near, unseen in light of day,
gasping and groaning,
comprehending nothing.
Somehow it ceased, some-
where sleep ended it; in an
unchallenged hour blissful
release won respite, comfort
and peace descended.
In a moment’s sleep before
dawn the slate was cleaned,
memories erased.
Awaken to dreams.
© 2007, I.D. Carswell
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