The Nap

My eyelids weighed
all that was in my head.
They battened down
as your fingers tapped
a lullabye on the keyboard.

I didn’t want to leave.
Here was a harbor,
a waveless haven,
where my dreams
would not tidal.

In my dress and stockings
and handbag, I curled.
Head down, eyes closed,
breathing rhythmed.
Pastel psychedelic waves
rolled over frantic
brain activity, soothing.

And I fell.

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