In this dream, you cannot open your eyes.
Be calm, it says. Either way you go blind.
A wonder anyone rests in this bed,
in the elevator dark that will not rise.
There are nights that lie down with the breath
of a thousand oceans. They grind the sun
into smaller, more manageable portions.
What is the opposite of the fear of death.
Is it the fear of death. Is it nothing yet.
Is it the bomb shelter you never knew
was there, until it told you it was not,
until it gave your face to the pillow.
Your body will tell you. Sleep scares you
until you’re in it. And then, you won’t let go.about the author