Orchestration of sleep

Every night, when I am well tucked in,

my eyes close and I dip into darkness.

Having perplexed me since I was a little girl,

the orchestration of this condition

is now clear to me: smother.

Sleep, it would seem, is the result

of a warm, deep squeeze of bodies,

that multiply from the shadows across the room

where they rest when the sun is up

and on arrival of darkness

come smother their warm flesh over mine.