Oct 2, 2022
1 min read
Sleep
A free-verse poem
Sleep tiptoes inside my skin,
like a thief entering a familiar house.
Drenched in his sweat, he waits,
for the right moment to steal the energy
I made love to all day.
Sleep drugs me like I am the
easy catch at the party, who could be
escorted to a bedroom.
Sleep invades me like I am an…
