I Have Not Slept Well (a poem)

Each morning, you ask, "How did you sleep?"

Each morning, I have given you, "Fine."

But what I've really meant to say, 
in all these years of days

best while you were cocooned 
around me . . .
but mostly restlessly, through fret 
& far-off dreams
that fell away to fuzzy shadowed
puzzle pieces come each morning.

best while the thunder & rain played 
chaos upstairs . . .
but mostly troubled & only 
within brief intermissions
of mental play, Life & Reenactments --

Act 1, Scene 20:          a mother is reborn with the gift of hindsight . . .

Act 2, Scene 12:          (fantasy scene) a time machine to unseal a deal 
                                      with the devil . . .
Act 2, Scene 16:          the plot unravels

. . . . . . 

yet the show must go on & on, it seems
best while I have your solace resting beside me . . .
but mostly my Insomnia is just too fond of lavender skies
& the routines of peace & quietness -- --

In all this time, what I've really meant to say, 
is that I have not slept well,
as I am eager for our days 
& how they do not disturb me at night.


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