Saturday, May 7, 2011

Waking Up Tired

Sometimes I wake so tired that I wonder if my soul, in the night, departed from my body and this world while I lye without motion and vision in my bed, to a parallel universe where time moves more rapidly yet feels slow and easy. A place where she, much like myself, poorly managed her time and took a late departure from this strange and wonderful world of my mind’s dream, depleting her energy stores, racing her way back to her home where she enters its fleshy comfort whereupon the couch of my heart seems to be calling her name, coaxing her to prop her feet if only for a moment. And as she returns, I myself awake, yet as she falls to rest in the deepness of my chest, I feel her weight and heaviness upon it and experience the day through a silk-screened haze, looking beyond where I am to where my soul has been, and dreaming as awake, of the places I will send her next.

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