Half sleep gathered me into

boughs of night where dreamscapes

of waterfalls and colored carnival lights

shined onto a blue wall.


Careless curtains beckon me to open the window

where stars resemble musical notes,

blinking out songs.


My room capsizes as water rushes in, circling

my ankles with winter cold, shining like mercury

spilled on a kitchen table.


I stirred roughly under my sheets, like a spoon

twisting in molasses and then opened my eyes.


Morning is a cold announcement

of crossing borders.


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