A breath away from waking—
but the body won’t move.
The silver weight presses down,
soft as hair,
heavy as fear.

In that in-between place,
I wonder if I’m sinking into a dream,
or if the dream is sinking into me.


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STIFLE

A breath away from waking—
but the body won’t move.
The silver weight presses down,
soft as hair,
heavy as fear.

In that in-between place,
I wonder if I’m sinking into a dream,
or if the dream is sinking into me.