Poem Sleep

If you are tired
Write anyway.
I am falling asleep to the song of myself again.

So many things get written
In so many bedrooms
Before sleep.

I was twelve once
And still love a dark room.

There is religion in a pink sky
Ambitious as New York.

God sounds like rain
On a quiet river.

Most of my body is giving itself over
To forget the parts of today
That my mind blinks my eyes awake to.

You are a lullaby as much as a drum skin. My back is angry at the sleep it isn’t getting.

I lay on a bed in a city.
Around me, poems
Write themselves
Til I listen.

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About amyleighcutler

Writer, dancer, vagabond extraordinaire
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One Response to Poem Sleep

  1. I was going to highlight a few lines until it became difficult to decide on which ones. Great piece, really.

    “I was twelve once
    And still love a dark room.”

    Yup.

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