Where the sleep lets off

The sky, through my window is cloud marbled as the meat of a fat cow. In bed with eyes closed, I brought to mind the blaze of the milky-way, Orion hunting overhead. The heat system pumps in warm air. And it’s in this comfort I dream of the cold chill that comes from sleeping out there. How it’s different when it’s not in the house. How I’ve softened. How I’m sick. How I wake in the midst of the night chilled yet drenched in sweat.

How I am estranged from…How I am close to…

The tree frog chorus sings through the night and falls into silence. Ebbs and flows. How fortunate, that when I go walking here, I may cross the path of one of these great healers. How sad that now and then I might find one desiccated in my home.

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