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.