In Stillness

Folds like my bed, like my body wound tightly into knots. Dark evening washes, my senses drowned in blackness. Quite calm yet no respite goes untapped, trailing off into another grinding, dreamless mourning. Those places hidden, intangible, breathless, and still, they are my sanctuary. Sacred sleep only too soon ignited and like ether consumed in an instant. Drudgery amid complaints resound in constant clanging, hanging down from powers unseen. I can't enshrine my waking life. I can't contain my endless dreams. It's only in the in-between, the silent world of sheets and window blinds, that I find myself at peace.

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